A Fool's Dream
by GrellScarletSpears
Summary: Titanic/BB. AU. Grell's life was a never-ending loop of meaningless events and decisions in which he had no say, his power-thirsty father and manipulative fiance in complete control of his life- until they board a certain ship and begin a journey that would change their lives. OOCness. GrellxWilliam. Based off of a mix of Titanic, BB manga, the musical, and both series of the anime
1. Chapter 1

**A/N This is the first fic I've decided is good enough to post, but characters will most likely be OOC.**

**Reviews and favourites will determine how often I update, so if you enjoy this story then please let me know~**

**Disclaimer:**

**Titanic belongs to James Cameron**

**Kuroshitsuji belongs to Yana Toboso, not me- if it did then Will and Grell would have gotten together instantly XD**

**This story features yaoi because yaoi is GOOD.**

Chapter 1

With a sigh, I grudgingly followed Angelina up the gangplank; I didn't see why we had to leave the comforts of our own country just for a wedding.

"Grell," my father purred threateningly from right behind me, making me shudder in discomfort, "I will accept none of your childish behaviour or whining on this journey, you will act accordingly as a gentleman of your stature- you wouldn't want to damage our name, or embarrass Lady Durless, would you?"

As were the only concerns for such a man; he who cared little for the true happiness of his only son, and greatly for power, status, and money.

"Of course not, Father," I replied calmly, more than accustomed to his threatening aura.

I'd never been able to determine whether he simply had a foul personality, or was only so menacing because he was a demon- either way, he was not a man to be messed with.

"Then stop dragging your heels, straighten your back, and follow your fiancé as though you feel that way," he hissed, digging a claw into my spine, my ruby suit becoming a little too hot.

Fiancé, the word itself made me blanch- the very thought of marrying her sickened me.

It was, of course, a forced marriage arranged by my father, in which I had no say; I simply had to marry the woman to become equal in wealth, status, and power- which was just what my father wanted.

All that he wanted.

He would claim that we needed the money, as we had lost everything but our name when it was revealed that my mother had committed a great crime, and then been executed, or that a family union of Human, Demon, and Reaper would be beneficial to our position as the latter two were swiftly dying out.

His other excuse was that Angelina was just as fond of the colour red as I was.

I didn't care about any of that; my only wish was that he had been the one to die, not Mother- she would have never even considered forcing me into such a pained life.

Flipping a lengthy lock of crimson over my shoulder, I stepped aboard the ship that would be dragging me away to America: RMS Titanic.

It was meant to be the 'Ship of Dreams', but to me it was simply the vessel that would carry me to my demise.

That wedding would be the end of me, and I had no way of escaping; despite my years, I wasn't experienced enough to know how to open portals like most reapers- real reapers.

"Grell dear, come on," the red woman called from up ahead, making me skip after her to avoid a scolding from both her and my father.

In all honesty, the ship was indeed impressive; once I was aboard I finally realised what everyone had been gossiping about.

The interior was beautifully decorated, the walls embossed with brilliant wooden panelling that only added to the elegant atmosphere.

We were led straight to our quarters by one of the crewmen, caring little about waving our country goodbye.

I'd be back- no matter what it took, or how long it would be, I would lay eyes upon Big Ben once again.

"Hello there, Auntie," a young, arrogant voice greeted, stopping me in my tracks- no one had mentioned that he was coming.

"Oh, there you are!" Angelina beamed at the small, eye-patched, blue haired boy that cockily leaned in the doorway, "I was so worried that you weren't going to come."

"Hello Ciel," I nodded curtly to him, studying his rather basic dark green outfit consisting of a white shirt, a green jacket with matching shorts, a royal blue neck tie, his usual long dark socks, and a pair of dull brown shoes.

"Reaper," he acknowledged me with a one-eyed glare; apparently he'd lost the other one in a hunting accident and wore the eye-patch to hide the hole.

Grudgingly strolling into the room behind my betrothed, I stalked off into my private quarters, stating that I hadn't been feeling well on the journey to the port and needed to lie down, the only people permitted to enter my room being those carrying our belongings.

Angelina called out to tell me that we were about to cast off in case I wanted to watch, but I had no interest in waving farewell to my home; I knew that I'd return someday, with or without her or my father.

Preferably without.

That first day dragged on painfully; boring at first, livening up slightly when picking up passengers from France, before ending in a terribly dull dinner with the other first class passengers that were flaunting their wealth.

Some days I wondered if I'd be happier poor, but chose not to dwell upon that.

That was simply my life; endless, boring parties with the snobbish class that I was born into, being scolded and lectured by my egotistic father, and having to put up with my overconfident fiancé.

I doubted that Hell would be any worse than the endless loop of events that passed through my life, even big events such as getting married in America wouldn't have an impact on the high class way of life.

It was the same everywhere.

At almost noon the next day, additional people were picked up in Ireland, at which point my father constantly tailed me, as if he were subtly assuring that I wouldn't try to escape my fate with the lady in red.

To top off the mind-numbing boredom, I also craved what I shouldn't; I needed to kill, to feel my blade slice through flesh, decorating the walls with my favourite colour.

But, I couldn't, I'd have hell to pay for that.

It was late afternoon when I had headed out onto an empty section of decking above the main deck, letting out a long sigh as I leaned over the rail to observe the people below.

How free their lives must have been- no person bore a frown and everyone had someone at their side, no matter what relation they were to each other; some had most likely only just met, but the fact was that each of them had someone they could chat with.

And there I was, alone.

Alone in a terribly crowded life.

My eyes rested on one particularly interesting looking group of people that were just arriving at the outer rail.

Two of the men wore plain black suits, one with chestnut hair that hung neatly at the sides of his face, and a pair of plain oval glasses, the other with elegant black hair that was tightly combed sideways and backwards so that not a single strand was out of place, and certainly not in the way of his face that bore a pair of silver rectangular spectacles.

Such perfection in both of them, though the black haired one a little more so; there was just something about that divine perfection that made me want to untidy him, to scruff up that flawless exterior and find out who he really was.

Who knows, perhaps behind that proper face hid a scandalous man- someone I wouldn't mind getting to know on a more personal level.

Or not.

That wouldn't be right at all.

But, deep desires never are.

Also in the gathering was a pair of bizarre looking men wearing identical shocking yellow suits; clearly very wealthy to afford such finery. One of them had blonde hair on one side and brown corn rows on the other, and the other sported wild blonde hair at the front and black at the back, the first of the duo wearing oval glasses with a slight blue tint, the second with pentagonal ones similar to my own but larger and black instead of red.

They both looked so carefree with their bright colours and wild hair that dared people to question it.

Though, my hair and clothing were hardly tame, but I was forever caged.

The fifth and final member of the group seemed more than slightly ominous; I couldn't quite tell if they were even male or female due to the long silver-grey bangs that covered their face, and the long black robe and grey sash that hid any identifiable chest protrusions, though I was leaning more towards male at the black top hat that was perched atop their head, a lengthy piece of shadowy ribbon from it flowing down the silver locks at the back.

A curious group indeed.

"I can't wait to see what kind of party they're holding here tonight!" the blonde and black haired man grinned, leaning casually against the rail, "What was last night's like?"

"Parties aren't exactly our type of pastime I'm afraid," the brown haired one smiled slightly, nodding a head to the other black suited man.

"Really?" the man with the corn rows gasped, and then threw an arm over his yellow suited friend, their grins mirroring each other as he winked at the brown haired man, "We partied so hard back in Ireland that we had to leave in case we destroyed the place!"

At this, the grey haired person burst into hysterical giggling, making three out of four of them jump out of their suits.

"Looks like we've got a couple of party reapers here!" the unidentified person laughed in a high, yet most definitely male voice.

Reapers?

Without letting another second pass, I hopped up on top of my rail.

"Excuse me?" I called quietly, knowing that if they were indeed reapers, they'd be able to hear me without a doubt.

Three pairs of double green eyes and a mass of silver hair looked up at me, the black haired man seeming not to hear by his delayed reaction, just following everyone else's line of sight, dim two tone green eyes widening when they met my own.

I gave an excited giggle; I'd finally found others of my kind.

Sort of.

"Looks like we've got a lady reaper," the grey haired man grinned, most likely a reaper himself or at least someone who knows what reaper eyes look like, "how can we assist you, my lady?"

A musical little laugh slipped from my lips at that.

I'd never been called a lady in such a sincere way before, even though I regarded myself as a woman, and I did seem female with my long and exquisitely well kept red hair, red and black high heeled shoes, and general personality.

"Sorry to interrupt, but I've never seen other reapers before," I grinned at them all; even the one that didn't seem to be one, exposing my daunting shark-like teeth to them.

"A lonely god of death, dyed crimson by the blood of her victims," the robed man sighed, "our numbers are indeed dwindling."

"Regardless of species, one such as yourself shouldn't even be talking to third class citizens," the black haired man snapped, glaring at me with such cold eyes, piercing into my very heart like a needle.

That icy look was so powerful, similar to the burning glares that my father gave, and that is what truly angered me.

"I'll speak to whomever I wish," I growled at him, my voice lowering menacingly, "most people of my stature wouldn't even look at the likes of you, but you're no better than them and their judgemental ways with your immediate rejection!"

Naturally, I had no control over my temper.

"Please excuse my brother, Miss, he's been in a foul mood recently," the brown haired reaper quickly apologised, shooting the black haired man a glare, though it was nowhere near as fierce as the one that was directed at me, "William, you owe this woman an apology for your unacceptable manner towards her."

The expression of the man that was so coolly glaring at me darkened considerably at his brother's words as he turned on the black suited reaper.

"Don't believe for one minute that you have any authority over me because you are with your own kind. No matter what happens, I am your older brother and should have your respect," William stated, his voice monotonous despite the anger in his eyes, sending strangely pleasant chills through my body, "or have you forgotten all that father taught us?"

The brown haired reaper's eyes narrowed as he gave a smirk.

"Do you recall the lesson about reapers having higher authority than humans?" he snapped, and then panic crept into his eyes as he threw a hand over his mouth as though it would undo what had just been said.

Apparently that had been a grave mistake, as William's fist flew towards his younger brother's face before another word could be exchanged.

The reaper quickly summoned his scythe to defend himself, the rectangular blade flat in front of his face to deflect the power.

Instead of letting his hand smash into the otherworldly metal, the black haired man halted his fist, and instead kicked the pole of the scythe upwards.

He landed a hard kick on his brother's chest as William caught the scythe.

The man with the rectangular spectacles leaned one foot on the reaper's chest, pinning him down, and swung the blade at his neck, stopping just short of making contact with the flesh.

The rest of us stared in shock at the display before us; each one dazed by the sudden turn of events.

"Still have the notion that you are superior to me?" William hissed at his brother, making him wince and shake his head as much as he could without cutting his neck on his own blade, "I want to hear you say it. Tell me, Alan, how someone like me can so easily overpower and force you, a reaper, into submission."

If the circumstances were any different, I'd have loved to let him try to force me into submission, but there was a time and a place for such thoughts.

No, there wasn't really any time or place for thinking of that with someone I'd literally just spoken to, and hadn't even gotten a friendly response from.

I couldn't help but feel impressed at the man's disarming skill, and the speed at which he could have killed his brother, and the absolute show of dominance over him.

Sweet dominance.

In all honesty, that was the type of person that I needed to keep me in check and deter me from any sudden urges to kill; there was only so long my father's intimidation would strike fear into me.

Alan let out a lengthy sigh, and a slight nod of surrender.

"Fine, you win; you may not be a reaper, but you are better than me," the downed brother proclaimed with a huff, eyeing his scythe, "I'm sorry for what I said, it was out of place."

With a satisfied nod, William straightened his glasses with the pole of his brother's scythe, before lowering it to help the younger man up.

"So, if everybody is finished being so violent," the silver haired man growled, flicking his hair aside to glare pointedly at William, who had simply returned to his stony state, with authoritative, aged dual green eyes.

It was considered rude to stare, but I couldn't pull my eyes away from that cold man; his looks alone were enough to drive me insane, but knowing that he held such strength and fury within that perfect body made my temperature rise by a few degrees.

"Perhaps this lady is into that sort of thing," the cornrowed reaper grinned, nudging the other yellow suited reaper, who also grinned at me with a nod.

"Perhaps indeed," I laughed; not one of my usual restrained laughs, or even an insane one, but a free, musical sound, "I'm Grell Sutcliff, a reaper to die for; it's great to meet you all."

"The name's Ronald," the reaper with the pentagonal frames chuckled, and then poked the reaper at his side, "and this is my brother, Eric."

"Everyone just calls me the Undertaker," the oldest of the group giggled, sending ripples through that silky grey hair.

"My name's Alan, it's an honour to meet you, Miss," the young brown haired reaper smiled, though his tone seemed edgy as an after effect of his brother's assault.

It warmed my lonely heart to hear such honest warmth directed at myself after so much neglect.

"Ah, I should tell you now to avoid awkwardness later, that I'm actually a man," I admitted, sounding abashed as I rubbed the back of my head, "though I know perfectly well that I look female, so don't worry about it."

"Oops, sorry, Mr Sutcliff," the Undertaker apologised anyway, only for me to wave it away with a smile, "you certainly aren't someone to ever be defined as normal, are you?"

"Of course not; that'd just be ridiculous," I giggled, thoroughly enjoying the strange conversation that separated me from the world I was trapped in.

Maybe I wasn't really trapped after all.

"Grell, you aren't causing trouble out here, are you?" Angelina's falsely whimsical voice reached my ears as she walked up behind me, wrapping her arms over my shoulders.

My eyes widened in sheer panic at the sudden feeling of unease; there went my moment of freedom and happiness.

I was too busy panicking to really notice how William's eyes narrowed at the sight of Madam Red behind me.

"Of course not," I chuckled, the tone sounding honest to her, but was only as true as the smile I wore in her presence, my discomfort obvious to the group before us.

"Make them jealous of you," she whispered into my ear, unaware that the majority of the other men were reapers and perfectly able to hear her demand, "make me look more desirable than any other."

I knew exactly what would happen if I were to disobey.

I grimaced at the ocean, scrunching up my eyes in distaste before painting upon my face the faux smile that I had perfected.

I turned to my fiancé, hopping off of the rail to wrap one hand around the woman's waist, and ghost the other across the soft skin of her cheek.

I cursed myself into the deepest pits of Hell as I pressed my lips to her ruby painted ones, and then pulled away after a second, not meeting her scarlet eyes as I saw her dark smile.

"Thank you, my bloody darling," she murmured as her eyes raked over the astonished group.

I didn't utter a word after that, not meeting anyone's confused gazes as she dragged me inside.

"Grell," I heard one of the men mutter, only empathy in his tone, before the outside world disappeared behind closed doors.

After a lecture about not socialising with the 'commoners' from my father, I was pulled away to get tidied up and dressed for dinner.

The ballroom was filled with its usual arrangement of painfully boring people, plus a few others that had been picked up in Ireland.

My father and fiancé shared the details of my doom referred to as a 'wedding' with the other aristocrats over glasses of champagne and a plate of caviar.

In the end, that was all that my life would or could ever be.

I felt the bile rise in my throat as I stood from the table, stating that I was feeling seasick and needed to rest, before brusquely leaving the ocean of dress suits and gowns for a more welcoming sea of darkness.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N Thank you to my reviewer and story followers! I'm glad to see that people like this story :3**

**Warning: This chapter contains dark themes**

**Now enough of me, onwards!**

Chapter 2

Once out on the deck, I lost control of all my senses as I sprinted to the back of the ship, not caring that I shoved various people out of my path on the way, tears streaming down my cheeks.

I reached the stern with ragged breath- more from the crying than the running.

Allowing myself just a second to catch my breath, I took a moment to stare out into the endless black sky that was separated only by the miniscule stars, tiny balls of light in a mass of darkness.

From where I stood, the stars looked as though they had millions of friends all around them, keeping them safe; but I knew that in actuality, each one of them was lost and so very far from one another.

Just as far as I was from wherever I was meant to be.

At least I wasn't alone in my loneliness.

The thought provided just a little comfort as I dried my tears with the back of my bare hand.

With a sigh, I slid up onto the back rail, so that I was perching on the top bar, and summoned my death scythe.

I studied my weapon with a gentle fondness; it was the only thing that I'd ever been able to relate to, with its unparalleled beauty, but also its power and urge to kill that can never be quelled as it will always be manipulated by another.

Destined to always be a solitary puppet.

It may as well serve its master one last time.

Perhaps then it could be free of its cage that I'd unintentionally trapped it in.

Taking a deep breath, I pressed the long, spiked blade to my neck, letting it bite just deep enough to leak a little blood and cause a fair bit of pain.

Physical pain I could take- it was the emotional pain that threatened to obliterate me.

I could end it all; finally escape my prison.

Death was so much better than living forever in captivity.

Even if I were to leave as soon as the ship made port, my father would find me and drag me back by my hair.

There was no other way of unravelling the tangled red strings of my cruel fate.

I wished that I could have been happy like those other reapers aboard, but I had been doomed to live in a cage from my very birth.

A creature as wild and uncontrollable as myself should never be tied down to a mortal life with a mostly mortal family, but that was all that lay ahead of me if I didn't give in to the darkness of the night.

With a growl, I cut off all of my angered and regretful thoughts, silencing my internal cries.

I'm not sure how long I stayed on the edge of death like that, not thinking of anything in particular- just letting my mind run blank, escaping from all of my worries.

The night that hung over the ocean was impressively dark; I'd never had the chance to see the sky itself so black with the city fumes and all of the lights, but it was oddly comforting.

I used to fear the shadows when I was younger; I would scream at the dark corners in fear of the monsters that lurked there in my nightmares, but I hadn't yet realised that I was far worse than any monster that could have been hiding there.

However, when I did learn that, I embraced the shadows and spent a while as that very monster, using the shadows as a black veil from behind which I could haunt others' nightmares as a deadly creature of night.

As I stared out at the darkness, I didn't feel repelled, but welcomed as though it were an old friend that I'd not seen in a long time.

I let out a long sigh that released all tension and fear; making me feel as though I was finally at peace.

I was ready to leave my empty life behind.

Adding a little extra pressure on my scythe, I moved it back slightly to feel a couple of the teeth that copied mine so well slide through my flesh.

The slowness of what I was doing made it agony, but it was better than flicking the switch and letting it take me quickly and messily.

I wanted to leave still looking beautiful.

"Don't do it," a calm male voice called, snapping me out of my controlled state as my eyes flew open.

Before me stood the cold, black suited man that had insulted me earlier and defeated his reaper brother for trying to reason with him.

William, if I recalled correctly.

I stared in blank shock at the man that was so rudely interrupting my suicide.

"Excuse me?" I replied, eyebrows arched in irritation at his order, lowering my blade so that I had full movement of my head.

"I said, don't do it," he repeated, expression not changing in the slightest as he took a step towards me.

"N-no, stay back!" I hissed at the black haired man, shaking my head violently, pressing my blade back against my throat.

He winced very slightly as he eyed the flow of blood that coursed down my neck, and shook his head slowly.

"You don't want to do this, put your scythe down," he told me sternly, taking another step towards me, cold eyes freezing my heart.

"I'll do it!" I exclaimed, sheer panic overpowering all else in my tone.

I hadn't planned that outcome; I had no idea how to stay in control when discovered- it wasn't like I could just kill him before finishing myself off.

That would just be pointless; I was the only one meant to die.

"No, you won't," he disagreed, and continued walking, leaning against the rail beside me when he reached it.

"How dare you presume to know what I will and will not do!" I snapped at William, my razor-like teeth clenching together in disgust, "You don't know me!"

"You're right; I don't know much at all about you, but you would already be dead if you were sure it was what you wanted," he shrugged as though it was obvious, making me huff and look away, skin tearing further against the metal teeth.

"Stop distracting me!" I snarled, refusing to look back at him, glaring at my shoes instead, "Leave me alone, I'm no concern of yours!"

"I wish I could go, but I'm involved in this now. If you attempt to slash your throat, I'm going to have to try and stop you," he stated, sounding almost bored of the situation.

"Don't be absurd; you'd be killed with one touch of this blade," I gasped, confused as to why the stranger was being so troublesome.

"I've got reaper blood in me, I wouldn't die," he disagreed, and then grimaced, "but being killed by a scythe is much more preferable than just being attacked within an inch of death. Have you ever been hurt so badly by a death scythe that you've seen your cinematic record?"

"No," I shook my head slowly, leaning slightly away from the blade, "why?"

"Well, a few years ago, when my brother and I were living in Paris, I was up in the middle of the night, retrieving a book from his room. He didn't realise that it was me, only that someone was in his room in the dark, so he summoned his scythe and cut straight across my chest," he explained, a frown fixing itself on that otherwise impassive face, "that was the single most painful experience of my life. I can't think of a suitable comparison, but imagine thousands of knives being pushed into your flesh, and then intensify that agony by a hundred, and that is how it feels. If you mess up your suicide even slightly, that is what you will face."

My ragged breath caught in my throat as I took in his words, eyes widening in intensified panic.

He wasn't lying about the agony- with just the slow cutting I could feel an almost impossible pain.

If I were to make a mistake...

No, I couldn't possibly make a mistake with this.

But still, I wanted to die to escape the agonies of my life; causing myself more pain would get me nowhere, and it could take weeks to recover from an injury like that.

I'd never be able to live with myself if I distorted my face- apparently my only worthy attribute, and if certainly never be able to use my scythe so freely again.

As hard as it was to imagine, I'd only be in a worse place than I already was.

"Come on, I've got you," he said almost tenderly as he held his hand out to me.

With a deep breath, I shakily dropped my scythe, letting it clatter to the ground below my feet, and took his hand.

At that moment, for the first time in my life, I made a fatal error.

I hopped down off of the rail, only for my heel to get hooked onto it.

I let out a feminine scream as I found myself falling face-first towards my deadly blade.

It all happened so fast that I couldn't comprehend what exactly had happened at the time, but William had caught me and pulled me away from my scythe, getting dragged to the ground with me in the process.

We lay side by side on the cool deck, breathing deeply as the adrenaline left our veins.

The man silently got up, pushed a hand through his already scuffed up hair, and then offered me a hand yet again.

"Hey! What's going on here?" a man called, making William whip his hand away and both our heads snap to the furious stewards that stood a little way down the deck.

Seeing the blood, our dishevelled appearances, and my femininity, the men assumed the worst.

"Get back you!" one of them growled at William, who simply backed away with an irritated expression and his hands raised.

"Grell!" my father gasped, appearing from nowhere, to see me splayed out on the floor next to my scythe, sodden with my own blood.

Madam Red appeared just behind him with her positively evil butler.

My stomach sank even further than I had believed possible upon lying my eyes upon the white haired man in the white tailcoat; when I hadn't seen him with his mistress over the past couple of days, I'd hoped that she'd fired him.

Wouldn't that have made my day.

Giving him disdainful glares, the crewmen quickly restrained William, who wasn't even bothering to put up a fight, though he clearly had the skill to easily slip free.

Angelina dashed over to me, pulled me up, and straightened out my clothes and hair.

As if those were the real priorities at that moment.

I silently let her give me a general check over, as per her habit as a doctor, inwardly cringing at the pain as she slid a gloved finger along the jagged line of open skin that I'd created with my scythe.

"Ash," she summoned her butler, and then passed him her blood sodden glove with a distasteful look.

Once the man had destroyed the 'unclean' glove with a purifying flame that the crewmen were too busy restraining William to see, Angelina stormed over to my saviour.

"How dare you lay your hands upon my property!" she hissed, and raised a bare hand to strike him across the face.

If the slight twitch of the man's eyebrows was anything to go by, there was no way that William would take that hit, but even so, I couldn't let her so much as attempt such an action.

"Angelina," I said sternly, my voice completely even as I stepped behind her and caught her hand in an instant, "the only thing that this man has done to me is save me."

"Oh, and what exactly did you save him from?" Ash asked the man in the black suit smoothly, angelic voice practically dripping accusation.

"Well, I happened across Mr Sutcliff while I was taking a walk along the promenade. He was leaning over the back rail; I assume that he was trying to see the propellers. Anyway, I called out for him to be careful, but startled him into summoning his death scythe," William explained smoothly to his fuming audience, never losing his composure in the slightest, "Mr Sutcliff then tripped while jumping off of the rail and back onto the deck, cutting into his neck with his scythe just before I caught him. The force of his fall knocked us both to the ground, which is pretty much how we were found."

I shot him a fathomless look of thanks as everybody mulled over the story, my hand still not releasing Angelina from my grip, constantly expecting her to try to slap William.

"Grim reapers don't 'trip'," Ash quipped, a smirk playing at his lips.

Oh, how I hated that damn angel!

One would assume angels to be peaceful and friendly creatures, but that man was nothing of the sort; his head filled with dark thoughts of purity and great schemes to cleanse the world by killing everyone.

Though, it would seem that we're all killers in one way or another.

William hesitated for a moment, going over what he'd just explained in his head, causing Ash's smirk to spread into a fully developed grin.

"Most reapers don't wear high heels," I stated with a shrug at the butler, wiping the grin from his face, and then turned to my father, "please, do you really wish to punish my saviour?"

The ruby eyed man frowned from myself, to William, and then back to me before shaking his head with a huff.

"Release the boy," my father sighed, flicking his ebony hair sideways.

"Sebastian!" Angelina gasped, and then ran searing crimson eyes over William and the men that released him from the cuffs.

Twisting her hand in my grip, she laced her fingers through my own as I watched over her shoulder as the stewards apologised to William, who rubbed his wrists with a frown.

"I'm glad to hear that you're alright," she lied in that sickeningly sweet voice that I loathed so much, "let's retire for the evening; you've had a long day, I'm sure you're tired."

I started to protest, but silenced myself at the sight of my father's glare.

"Don't you think that the young man deserves something for his heroics?" one of the crewmen that had previously been restraining William asked.

"I'd say ten pounds should do it," the woman smirked- a clear order for Ash to pass on the money.

"If that's all you believe I'm worth, I'll find myself a better suitor!" I snapped, wrenching myself from her grip.

I felt my eyes burn as I glared into her orbs that widened slightly in shock.

"Grell disapproves, it would appear," she growled, and then let a sly smile present itself as she turned to William, "I know, why don't you join us for dinner tomorrow evening?"

"Yes, that would give you a perfect stage to relay your heroic tale," my father agreed with an equally amused smirk.

"It'd be my honour," William confirmed with a nod, declining the money from the angel's outstretched hand.

"Good, then we will see you tomorrow, Mr...?" Madam Red nodded, raising her thin eyebrows.

"Spears," the man stated, eyes drifting over to my own nervous ones.

With another nod, the red woman began to lead everyone away.

"William, I-" I started to thank him properly, only to be tugged away by my irritable fiancé, making me bite into my lip in anger.

The man spared me a sad, knowing look as I grudgingly let the woman take me away, an apologetic look in my eyes.

He knew that I was trapped in this.

"How dare you say such a thing to your fiancé!" my father growled at me once we'd returned to our quarters and he'd pursued me to my bedroom, his eyes a threatening pulsing shade of pink, "you need to control your arrogance, or I will."

I physically shuddered at those words, knowing all too well what he was saying.

But, I couldn't do it; I had no real control over my arrogance, my anger- anything.

I received a solid slap to the face, to which I didn't even react, being so used to the action that I couldn't feel the sting.

That, and the fact that the deep gash under the cloth I pressed to my neck was considerably more painful and cancelled out any other pain.

"Do you ever think back to the days just after Mother was killed, when all we had was each other?" I asked the demon quietly, not meeting his violent pink eyes.

"I do; it reminds me of how high we've risen since then," he chuckled, "we went from common rats, to proud aristocrats."

"No! Why can't you see how far we've fallen?" I gasped in utter astonishment at what I was hearing, "We were once genuinely happy, but now we strut around with our bought treasures and false smiles!"

"Well, I'm sorry to hear that you feel that way, Grell," he hissed, ripping at my hair for good measure, "but I am happy."

"If that's true, then you've ceased to be the person you once were entirely," I snapped, my eyes starting to burn.

"Don't you dare look at me with those eyes!" he spat as I felt my eyes throb with the unfamiliar heat, receiving only a confused glare.

He spun me around to stare into a mirror at a creature I barely recognised as me.

"Look at yourself," he ordered me coldly, and I did, I stared long and hard at the pair in the mirror, "look at yourself and tell me honestly that I'm the one that's changed."

I glared in disgust at the sight of myself in the glass: my hair uncharacteristically scruffy, my makeup having run, the flawless skin of my neck marred by my feelings of distress, my clothes creased and stained with my own blood, and, most importantly, the pair of eyes that burned that threatening pink, filled with such uncontrollable rage.

"Th-this is different!" I gasped, tearing my mutated eyes from my horrifying reflection to the red eyed man, "this is part of who I am and my situation."

The dark entity swiftly rose from my bed, and headed to the door.

"What makes you think that I'm any different?" he asked softly, glancing back at me with the slightest of woeful smiles.

I stared at the door in shock for a moment after he'd left.

Perhaps he was still there, if only a shade.

Over the centuries, my father had changed so much; he went from the abnormally gentle and good-willed demon, to the harsh and unforgiving 'Earl Sebastian Michaelis'.

Yet, I hadn't changed at all, bar the blood lust and depression that had intensified.

And, it would seem, my demonic half was starting to shine through to overpower my reaper side.

I made the excuse that I was stressed from my near-death experience and needed to sleep, so that I would be undisturbed for the rest of the night.

Thinking back on the night's events felt so strange; to have spent so much time causing death in the past, and then tried to take my own life.

I had been relatively calm with my blade at my throat, feeling its jagged yet smooth blade slicing into my flesh, to have complete control over the most beautiful display of someone's life: a death painted in the deepest shades of their blood, each drop of the ruby liquid telling a tale.

But, when I had almost fallen on my scythe the panic I'd felt had completely taken over my senses; probably due to William's story of how much it would hurt.

William.

With every thought of the stoic man, my body became so warm, as if those icy eyes could keep me warm on a cold night when nothing else could.

Ah, I even found myself longing to have those eyes upon me, watching me writhe beneath him.

Had my emotions not been so scattered, I would have scolded myself for thinking such lewd images, but then again, perhaps thinking of him was the perfect escape from all other thoughts.

Yes, the beautiful force that is death, and that suited man.

With a sigh, I let myself drift into my own dreamland, my sanctuary filled with calming thoughts of death, and my heroic Will.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

The following morning, I headed down to the promenade early; before anyone could drag me down to breakfast.

My attire for that day was a pair of black trousers, a white shirt with my favourite white and red striped bow, my signature heels, and my beautiful black lined red coat that I wore around my elbows; it may have been a gift from Angelina, but that didn't stop me adoring it.

After only a few minutes spent wandering the deck, I found my target sitting with a light blue suited reaper.

It was quite entertaining to watch; the pair were sitting on a couple of sunbeds, William holding on to a large black book, Ronald, the pentagonal spectacled one, trying, and failing, to steal it.

"Good morning," I said with a smile once I'd decided to pay Will back for saving me by freeing him from the blonde and black haired man.

Both men looked up in surprise at me, and then shrugged it off.

"Morning!" the reaper grinned, tipping his black hat at me.

"Good morning, Mr Sutcliff," William nodded to me, and then pulled his book away from his companion that had tried to use my distraction as a chance to grab it, "would you care to take a walk around the promenade with me?"

"Sure," I smiled, happy to have given him the much needed escape from Ronald.

"Have fun," the reaper grinned, lying back on the sunbed with a wink.

The black haired man sighed at the death god before getting up.

"How is your neck?" he checked shortly after we'd set off.

"Oh, it's already healing slowly but well," I smiled, swishing my hair behind my shoulder to show him the crimson line that had become a little thinner than last time he'd seen it and had long stopped bleeding.

"Ah, that's good," he murmured, nodding to himself.

As we walked laps around the deck, I learned many things about Will: he was a human-reaper, so he was primarily human, but had grim reaper properties, such as dim double green eyes that could see what reapers in the business called 'cinematic records', agelessness, and extra strength. His brother, Alan, was pretty much a full reaper, dispite the fact that their mother was human, so Alan always had their reaper father's preference. To try to gain their father's respect, Will trained long and hard with both his brother's and father's scythes, until he became faster and more skilled than Alan.

"Where is he at the moment?" I asked after the lengthy conversation about the pair of them, "I couldn't help but find it odd that he wasn't around, and you were stuck with Ronald instead."

"Eric left me to keep an eye on his brother so that he couldn't bother him and my brother while they," he explained, and then paused to give a sound that could only be described as almost a chuckle, "while they're on a date."

"A date? Two men?" I asked in surprise, shocked that I wasn't the only one starting to lean towards men.

"Yes, that doesn't make you uncomfortable, does it?" he checked cautiously, realising that he, perhaps, shouldn't have mentioned that so openly.

"Of course not," I laughed lightly, shaking my head, "I was just surprised; most people aren't so lenient about such matters."

He gave a relieved sigh and a nod of agreement, making my signature Cheshire grin slide onto my face.

At least he isn't repulsed by that- good.

Even that gave me the slightest of chances.

"Have you known Ronald and Eric for long?" I continued the casual interrogation as we passed the spot from last night for the fourth or fifth time, and then stopped to lean over the railing a few steps along the side.

"No, we only met yesterday," he shrugged with a shake of the head, and then met my eyes with an understanding of why I'd asked, "sure, Alan and Eric have only known each other for under twenty four hours, but they just seem to click together perfectly. My brother needs someone like that to look after him."

He appeared to feel the need to expand on that at my confused look.

"Alan has an extremely rare reaper illness, one so rare you may not have even heard of it; the Thorns of Death," he explained quietly, glancing out at the ocean, and then raised his eyebrows at my sudden intake of breath, "ah, you do know it. Then, you must also know that there's no known cure."

I nodded sadly, the shock still in my eyes and empathy for the brothers in my heart.

"Alan and I have travelled all over the place trying to discover a way of saving him while he was trying to work as an official soul collector," he started another of his great tales, speaking dreamily, as though he was in the memory rather than with me, "we knew that the Thorns' attacks were worse when he was alone, so we went on large scale reaps together, travelling by ship or train since I, being mostly human, can't travel through reaper portals. Anyway, there was one trip that we went on, to Brazil, that was so much more amazing than any other experience in all my years."

He told me all about their trip to Brazil, where they'd spent months after a large reap due to a village fire- they had actually then helped to rebuild the village and lived there for a little while. It was unbelievable how many brilliant things they had done there, such as exploring ancient temples and running with jaguars in the rainforest.

"Tell me that we'll go there someday, to that village, to see the rainforest," I sighed happily, letting my mind flood with images of the experiences he spoke of, the utter freedom, "say we'll go there, even if it's just a fool's dream."

"Sure we'll go there, really. I'll take you out there to play with the monkeys and let them braid you hair; they are the best hairdressers after all," he smiled softly, his honest tone filled with a gentleness, "I mean it, we will go there one day."

I grinned back at him, bewitched by his breathtaking smile that had proven to be a very rare sight, and the very thought of travelling to such a beautiful, remote place with the man I'd just met.

A fool's dream indeed.

We exchanged idle chatter and light-hearted jokes as we found ourselves circling the ship again.

"I can't help but notice that we've walked miles around this deck and talked all about myself and Alan," he pointed out, his tone slowly slipping back into its flat tone, as if he'd realised he sounded content and had to suddenly get rid of the upbeatness, "but, that's probably not why you wanted to see me, is it?"

I shook my head, and stopped to lean against the rail as I became serious again.

"I want to thank you for last night; for both saving me, and not telling the others what really happened," I explained slowly, "I owe you a lot for that."

He gazed back at me with troubled eyes, not uttering a word.

"You probably think that I'm pathetic and trying to get some kind of attention from my drastic death stunt," I sighed, breaking eye contact by staring out at the ocean, giving a bitter laugh, "what would a rich reaper ever know about misery, right?"

"Not at all, I was just wondering what could make such a charismatic person buckle and believe that they had no way out," he shook his head, his voice gentle and comforting.

"Well, it was a lot of things really; I have no say in any of my life's decisions, I've been forced into marriage, and if I even try to so much as protest or behave in a way regarded as improper, my father," I rambled, getting flustered and frustrated at how whiny I sounded out loud, and then hesitated before deciding, based on the previous night's events, that Will was trustworthy, "he threatens me."

"Oh, I see," he sighed with a sad nod and a frown, "but whatever happens, I'm sure you don't have to die to be free. Your father, is he a reaper?"

"No," I shook my head, biting my lip nervously.

Do I tell him?

"Then perhaps you can put him in his place with a flourish of that scythe of yours if he's really that bad," he mused, "you'd even scare a reaper away with one that powerf-"

"He's a demon," I quickly cut him off, stopping his pointless attempt to help, "he's much stronger and more skilled than me. Nothing scares him, especially not my 'deadly toy' as he likes to call it."

I saw the alarm clear in those green eyes that betrayed his calm expression.

With a nervous intake of breath, I braced myself for his reaction.

Demons were even more uncommon creatures than reapers, and considered a lot more dangerous due to their manipulative and deceptive skills, as well as their short tempers and tendencies to murder without a reason when not contracted with a human.

"Oh, a demon," he nodded, eyes widening in realisation, "does that make you half reaper and half demon?"

I gave a small, silent nod, not trusting myself to speak in case I said anything that would unnerve him further.

He studied me with a stunned look for a moment before shaking his head and straightening his glasses.

Had I scared him away?

"You're a rare beauty, Grell," he chuckled; the first genuine sound of happiness I'd heard from the man, as he stared out along the horizon.

Such a relaxed sound for a man so serious.

I accidentally let out a giggle along with my raging blush, looking down and burying my face in my equally red hair in attempt to hide it.

"And, who knows, the people out there in Brazil have many superstitions, so maybe they have demon repelling charms," he added with a smirk, making me erupt in laughter.

"I'd love to see that," I chuckled, my eyes watering slightly from laughter as I tried to imagine the great Sebastian getting trapped by a charm.

"Grell?" Will called quietly, catching my attention during a spell of content silence between us, "This may seem very forwards and quite an odd request, but could I draw you?"

"Excuse me?" I asked, surprised and more than a little confused, until he held up the large black book that I'd completely forgotten about, "Oh, are you an artist?"

"Well, I wouldn't say an artist exactly, but here," he murmured bashfully as he passed me the book to look at, "though I should warn you that some of my work isn't exactly for the eyes of the rest of society."

With a puzzled nod, I led us over to a pair of sun beds, upon which we sat as he began to show me the secrets held within the sketchbook.

The art was almost impossibly beautiful; his drawings had such life and emotion within them that rivalled the reality within photographs- it was like he really captured people within the pages.

I also couldn't help but notice that there wasn't a single woman between the black covers.

The first few drawings of men of many different ages and ethnicities were thoroughly explained by the artist himself: who each person was and his reasons for drawing them, and I listened with an open mind and a curious heart.

It wasn't until a few pages later that I saw what he'd meant about the contents not being for the eyes of most.

There were many pieces featuring naked men either alone or together, some posing like models, others looking somewhat relaxed- I even recognised a handful of the picture subjects as Alan himself, naked of course.

"Don't worry, I'm not generally perverted, I just see beauty where others often can't. Each one of these men have truly marvellous bodies for different reasons. Take Alan for example, when clothed he looks very lithe and weak, but look at the legs that are hidden under his clothes," he explained, tapping the legs of his bother's image, "they're much more powerful than he shows them to be."

"I see," I nodded, more than slightly awestruck at his words; I could see exactly what he meant- and it seemed that he really did see the beauty that people hid, "I understand exactly what you're saying. You have an amazing gift, Will. You really see people, not just their masks."

"Which is exactly why I'd like to draw you," he agreed, and then blushed furiously, "with clothes on, of course."

"Right," I laughed freely with a nod, "tomorrow then?"

"Tomorrow," he smiled in confirmation, which changed to a gentle laugh.

That day I spent strolling the deck with Will was the most relaxed and free time I'd had in many years, he made me feel truly wanted; not like a tool to acquire status or other such worthless attributes.

Alas, of course, it had to come to an end.

My little fantasy was abruptly interrupted by the appearance of my father, Ciel, another man in black that I knew to be my father's fellow demon, Claude Faustus, and his little blonde master that was only a couple of years older than Ciel, Earl Alois Trancy- both of which we'd met at dinner.

"Father," I acknowledged the red eyed man with a nod before greeting each of the others, Ciel with much bitterness.

"Grell, Mr Spears," my father nodded apprehensively at us, not bothering to hide the glare aimed at Will.

"Earl Michaelis, gentlemen," Will said equally as monotonously.

"Reaper," the bluenette snarled, giving me a degrading look, and then looked over the man at my side, "so, this is the man that 'saved' you?"

"Yes," I replied curtly, earning a disapproving growl from my father.

"Interesting, well we'll hear your versions of the incident at dinner," the Phantomhive boy shrugged with a crafty smirk.

"Yes, we can't wait to hear!" Alois cheered, genuinely interested, "We were awfully worried when we heard that you'd taken a slice from your scythe, weren't we Claude?"

The other demon, that had said nothing, simply letting his piercing golden eyes almost penetrate our souls through his glasses, nodded at his master's words.

"Indeed," he agreed, causing a dark smile to slip onto the other demon's face; a sight that made me internally shiver in discomfort.

"How's your neck now?" the young boy in the remarkably short shorts asked with what sounded like actual concern for my well being, but I'd be surprised if it was.

All nobles were the same.

Well, perhaps not quite all.

"Oh, it's not too bad, thank you," I replied with a nod, that was soon washed away by the sound of trumpets.

"Come, Grell. Get ready for dinner," my father ordered me sharply, seeming to dislike the amount of attention I was getting.

"I'll see you later," I smiled at Will, who simply stared back in a calm daze as I followed my father away.

"You don't have any clothes, do you?" Alois laughed, presumably asking Will, "Claude, go and entertain yourself until I call you. I'm going to make Mr Spears here look like a prince!"

"Yes, your Highness," came the demon's reply, an almost intangible hint of amusement in his tone.

I smiled to myself, wondering what Will was in for with the little blonde and his outlandish yet impressive clothing ensembles.

Once I'd caught sight of the red glare, we headed back to our quarters in a painfully tense silence.

"Bardroy, see to Grell instead for now; I don't even trust him to dress himself," the demon ordered his butler bitterly as I was about to head into my room.

"Yes, Sir," the white suited butler nodded, and then accompanied me to my suite, being sure to shut the door behind us, "you got a preference on what you're wearin' tonight? Anythin' special in mind for Lady Durless?"

"Bard, if my father heard you speaking like that he'd do away with you in an instant," I grumbled, flopping down on my bed on my back, "I need something red."

"Eh, you'd never tell 'im- we get on too well, right, my lady?" he grinned at me with a knowing look, "And with all due respect, you don't own anythin' that ain't red."

"Fair enough," I chuckled as I rolled onto my stomach, propping my head up by my elbows, "I'll have my red tailcoat- the one with the black ruffles; I want to look my best for someone."

"Oh, I get it, you scandalous lady!" he smirked with a shake of the head, "Just don't let the others find out, or you'll 'ave hell to pay."

We both chuckled at the little inside joke as he turned to rummage through my wardrobe for my desired outfit.

I always felt so relaxed around Bard; he was the one person that could understand my feelings. He was genuinely a friendly person with that calm, laid back manner that surfaced whenever we were alone or with other servants.

He also happened to accept me however I was: making him quite a rare person.

The blonde hooked a hanger off of the rail and held up my clothes with a triumphant grin.

"Ding!" he cheered, "D'you want me to dress you or just hang around so your father thinks that's what I'm doin'?"

"Just sit on the bed and try not to look," I giggled, hopping up to take the mass of crimson fabric, and pushing him onto the bed, before skipping over to the mirror to change since I didn't have a screen to dress behind as real women did.

Stripping myself of my rather basic attire, I sighed, seeing my lack of female body parts.

It had never made sense to me why a part deep within me desired to be female; a part that was quickly gaining control.

I longed so much to have breasts, to be able to bear a child with a man I'd fallen in love with, to raise a family.

Sure, I had the curves, the hair and the personality, alas, I was irrevocably male.

Pushing my hair off of my shoulder, I peered closer at my neck, checking how fast my cut was healing, and then nodded in satisfaction when I saw only a thin red line left.

I suddenly glanced behind me to check that Bard's eyes hadn't wandered to my almost naked form; my only clothing being the lacy red underwear I could wear without getting caught by my father or fiancé.

Of course, my ever faithful friend wasn't looking in my direction, but following the patterns on my silky scarlet duvet.

"Grell, hurry up!" my father hollered, startling me more than a little, "Angelina, Ciel, and I won't wait forever- we don't want to end up late in front of the Marquess and his family."

I cringed as I all but threw my clothes on, and then sighed once I'd done up every button and bow.

Studying myself in the glass once more, I smoothed out any creases or folds I'd made and straightened everything up.

"You want me to do your hair in a plait?" the blonde suggested, standing from the bed as I continued to zero in on the tiniest details I'd messed up in my attire, "And stop fussin' with that, you look fine."

I gave him a grateful smile and a nod, hurrying over to perch on the bed so he could work his magic on my locks.

"Grell!" Madam Red yelled, the developing anger clear in her voice.

"Go ahead, I'll meet you there," I gave an exasperated sigh, closing my eyes and just enjoying the feeling of someone's hands on my hair.

"What 'appened last night wasn't an accident, was it?" Bard asked quietly once we heard the others leave.

"No, it was no accident," I mumbled, not bothering to conceal the truth from him; if anyone around here could be trusted, it was him.

"I'd miss you if you died, y'know that, right?" he sniffed as he ended my plait, working a small red flower into the bottom.

"Yeah, I know," I nodded sullenly, staring at the ornately decorated gold wall in front of me.

"Don't you dare try again, you 'ear me?" he almost growled, shocking me with his boldness, "I'm sure there are other ways to get out."

"Actually, I think I've found some people worth sticking around for, and I have my eye on one in particular," I chuckled, shaking my head once he'd let go of the lengthy piece of hair.

"Good, go get 'em then," he chuckled, though it sounded almost mournful somehow.

I slipped off of the bed and turned to face him.

"Don't worry, I will," I grinned at my friend, "how do I look?"

"Beautiful," he stated quietly through a smile.

With a satisfied wave, I headed out of the party's suite, and it was only when I was out in the corridor that I realised the nature of that last smile; like he was trying to hide sadness behind it.

I'd have to ask him what was wrong later.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N Thank you to my lovely reviewers! XD**

**Sorry if this chapter contains a little too much rambling...**

**Anyway, enjoy~**

**(Hopefully!)**

Chapter 4

As I rushed towards the ballroom, I cut through a number of crew passageways in attempt to get there faster.

"Hey, what're you doing here?" an irritated blonde crewman snapped at me, another with dark hair coming up just behind me.

"My apologies, but I'm in a rush," I stated hurriedly, looking past him.

"A pretty little thing like you ought not to wander the ship alone," the man behind me chuckled, "someone might try something."

The pair closed in on me, their lecherous grins making their intentions more than obvious.

"Are we really about to go through this?" I sighed in annoyance, having neither the time nor the patience to put up with them, "I don't want to hurt you."

"Well, Miss, if you don't make a fuss, we won't make it hurt," the blonde one chuckled, making me spin around to lean against the wall with a huff, so I could see both, "so don't bother with the empty threats."

Not regarding my words in the slightest, the blonde man reached a hand towards my face, and I could see the other move to do the same to my hip.

Wanting to get rid of them quickly, I summoned my scythe so that I could scare the annoyances away, but I didn't- couldn't stop there.

It wasn't my fault that they provoked me, and it wasn't my fault that I couldn't control my temper.

It was simply my nature.

My body automatically swung the blade, revving its engine as it made contact with the brown haired man's chest, driving the spikes deep into his body.

"Bloody hell!" the blonde squeaked, eyes wide and mouth agape as his fellow crewman's body slid down the wall, leaving a bloody trail, "What are you?"

"Out of your league," I growled, pressing the metal to his throat, "that's dead certain."

Those were the last words he heard before the roar of my scythe deafened him to all else, depriving him of all feeling.

It would be a lie to say that I didn't feel the high of getting the opportunity to take a life; especially those of men so unfitting for life itself, but I didn't have the time to enjoy it.

Letting my scythe disappear, I made sure that nobody else was around before skipping out of the narrow pathway without a backwards glance.

After all my years of practice, I'd aced my killing strategies so that I got no blood on my clothing, no matter how fast it all happened.

A perfect killer.

I dashed to the ballroom in under a minute, pausing only to straighten out my clothes and flatten down my hair a little, before proceeding through the door held open by the doorman.

I finally exhaled once I'd reached the staircase and caught a look at the grand clock to see that I was only a few minutes late.

The large room was alive with the chatter of the aristocrats and the clatter of silverware against plates.

Everyone other than waiters, hand servants and butlers were already seated, making my arrival more than a little awkward, but I skipped over to our table in a reasonably upbeat manner nonetheless.

After all, I'd get to see Will again.

Perhaps I wouldn't have to talk to the rest of the nobles, and just carry on my relaxed conversations with him.

When I reached the large, round table I let my eyes skim over the occupants and the empty spaces that lay between Angelina and my father, as well as between Will and Alois.

Speaking of Will, Alois had managed the impossible: he'd made the black haired man even more alluring.

The handsome man's hair was no longer combed back, but brushed forwards to give him a less restrained look that suited him so well, as did the long, elegant, black tailcoat that joined with blood red laces instead of plain black buttons, matching the brilliant waistcoat beneath.

It seemed that the little blonde Earl had managed to coordinate Will's outfit perfectly with mine.

Upon my arrival, my father, fiancé and Ciel rolled their eyes at me in perfect synchronisation.

"Oh, we had started wondering if you were ever going to show up," the woman in the red dress remarked with an ill-willed laugh.

Well, that decided where I was going to sit.

I chuckled at the snide comment as I made myself comfortable between Will and Alois.

"I'm afraid I had to stop to get rid of some rats," I grinned, leaning back in my chair, waiting for the chaos that ensued, shooting an arrogant look in Madam Red's direction, "but I'm sure there will be one or two more to dispose of sooner or later."

"Rats?" Elizabeth, Ciel's fiancé, squeaked, horror-struck.

"Just a figure of speech; he's trying to be funny," the blue haired child muttered, glaring daggers at me, only provoking a grin that fully exposed my razors.

Neither the scowl from the angel behind my fiancé, or the burning pink glare from the demon on the other side of Will could break my grin.

Nothing could destroy the pleasant buzz I felt from my previous activity.

And having Will by my side.

That certainly had something to do with my upbeat mood too.

Luckily Mr Lau was there to wash away the awkward atmosphere created, striking up a conversation with my father, Marquess Midford, Ciel and the Indian prince, about trading companies.

"Evening," I smiled at Will, raising a glass of beautiful red wine at him.

"You certainly know how to make an entrance," he smirked, though it was a warm, joking gesture.

It was hard to tell whether or not he was actually nervous or uncomfortable in such company, but if he was, he certainly didn't show it.

The whole group consisted of myself, Will, my father, Angelina, Ciel, Elizabeth Midford, Marquess Midford, Marchioness Midford, Edward Midford, Mr Lau, Miss Ran Mao, Prince Soma, Alois, and the trio of butlers; one of which stood pompously behind Angelina, another leaning loyally over his Prince's shoulder, and the third lurking in Alois' shadow, daring anyone to make a move on his 'Highness'.

"By the way, Grell," Will whispered, leaning in closer to me, "you've got blood on your cheek."

My eyes widened in shock for a moment, before I composed myself and smiled my thanks as I inspected myself on the back of a spoon.

I quickly used a napkin to get rid of the blood, just catching my father's amused smirk as I did so.

Following that, I had to listen the Marchioness' lecture on how a man should comb their hair back and certainly never keep it anywhere near as long as mine.

It was then decided, after a lengthy conversation about everyone's tea preferences, that it was time to eat.

As per usual, a pair of waiters saw to us, asking each of us what we'd like; the majority asking for pork, with the exception of Soma, who requested chicken, and my father and fiancé, along with myself.

"Grell and I will take the steak, well done," Angelina ordered for both of us before I could say a word, and then glanced at me with challenging eyes, "that's what you like, isn't it Darling?"

I rose to her challenge with a low chuckle.

"Almost, Dear," I smirked at the woman, and then rose a finger at the waiter, "I'll take my steak as rare as possible."

"Of course," the man nodded, and then looked to my father, "Sir?"

"I'll take the same as Grell," he answered, a hint of amusement on that crafty face as he gestured to me, and then resumed the group's conversation, "enough of this idle chatter, what everyone really wants to hear about is Grell's little accident from last night."

The smile that was in residence on my lips left at my father's reminder.

"Yes, do tell," Ciel sneered, leaning forwards eagerly, "I want to hear this story for myself."

All eyes rested on me, making me suddenly feel very uneasy, which, in all honesty, was rare for me.

I looked hopefully to Will, who gave a nod, saving me from my doom.

"Well," he started, and then proceeded to relay everyone a more detailed version of the story he'd weaved the previous night to keep my suicidal intentions a secret.

Everyone listened intently to Will's words- even those that didn't want to believe that it was such an innocent string of events, each of them keeping their eyes fixed on the man, even when dinner was delivered.

"That was lovely," Lady Elizabeth beamed at the end, eyes huge in awe, earning her a range of worried looks, especially from her parents.

"Who knew that a third class man would save have it in him to save a first class man; especially someone like him," Mr Lau mused, eyes closing once more, "if you get my meaning."

"Yeah, I had no idea Grell was a grim reaper!" the prince gasped, running his eyes over me as his butler prevented the purple ponytail from getting dipped in his food.

The Midford family, with the exception of Elizabeth, exchanged uneasy murmurs and glances.

"He's a reaper?" the Chinese man exclaimed perhaps a little too loud, chocolate brown eyes flying open in shock.

"What the bloody hell did you think all the talk of a death scythe was about?" Ciel yelled at him, and then leaned his face in his palm.

"I had no idea, but I never know what kids these days are talking about," he shrugged with a closed-eye grin, causing Ciel to sigh.

"What's a reaper?" the young blonde girl asked quietly, gaining a chuckle from a few of us.

"Nothing, Elizabeth, don't worry about it," Ciel grumbled, opting to nudge a potato around his plate.

"Oh, okay," she nodded, slightly put down by her fiancé; I knew how she felt, "Mr Sutcliff?"

I met her huge, innocent emerald orbs with interest.

"Hmm?" I smiled at her inquisitive little expression, "Call me Grell, please."

I didn't know her very well and had only seen her a few times, but while she seemed like the usual type of proud and self righteous noble, if you looked past the pretty face and designer clothes, she was actually a sweet and honest person.

It seemed that we were quite alike in ways, after all.

"Right, Grell," she nodded, looking slightly embarrassed at her empty plate, "I've been wondering for a while, what happened to your mouth?"

I stared blankly at her for a moment before laughing.

"Oh, have I bitten through my lip again? I always end up doing that after eating," I chuckled, and then searched around for a cut with my forefinger.

"No, that's not what I meant," she mumbled, cheeks reddening.

When I offered only a confused look, my father sighed and took over.

"He was born with those ridiculous razors," the demon explained with a heartless smile that ensued a silent response from everyone but Ciel, who laughed spitefully at me.

I stopped poking around in my mouth with a frown and glared into my lap.

"I think they're unique," Will piped up, looking to me after an awkward moment without speech, "and elegant yet deadly- much like yourself."

I stared in shock at the man, and then let a gentle smile slide to my lips, mouth slightly open to expose the teeth he complimented so kindly.

I could swear that I felt my cheeks heat up at his words.

"Listen people, let's stop being so serious and enjoy the evening," Prince Soma announced, and I inwardly thanked him for taking the spotlight away from myself and Will.

The evening drew on through many boring conversations and just a few entertaining ones that, for once, I actually laughed at.

It was different with Will there; I didn't feel so superficial- even though I still hid behind my mask with the other people on the table, I felt as though I wasn't living a lie.

Yet, it didn't make any sense.

Why should I feel so happy and free around him?

Sure, his life was the very definition of freedom and he was happy travelling with his brother, but why were his feelings affecting mine?

I barely knew him.

But I felt as though I needed to be with him in any way I could.

Perhaps it would be better not to question the attraction and simply see how everything plays out.

Maybe even encourage the feeling.

He could be my way out; an escape from my cursed life.

"Mr Spears, what's third class like?" Ciel asked in a falsely innocent tone.

"Not bad at all; I haven't seen a single spider," he shrugged nonchalantly, causing a giggle to slip from Alois, and a smirk from Claude, "how's first class? The champagne is certainly exquisite."

I laughed at his boldness, especially when he took a sip from his glass to emphasise that, and the taken aback took on Ciel's face at that.

Utterly priceless.

"It's the best I've experienced, and I've experienced a lot," the red eyed man grinned, causing the knowing few to laugh aloud in agreement.

"So, Mr Spears, where are you from?" the Marquess asked casually, "Where do you live?"

"I'm from London originally, but I don't really live anywhere exactly," he shrugged calmly, "my brother and I travel around a lot, so we never make roots anywhere. Our home for now is this ship. Once we get off, we'll go wherever the wind takes us."

There was a flood of sudden conversation between pairs, discussing their opinions of what Will had just explained.

"William?" Angelina called, getting the mysterious man's attention, "Out of interest, how did someone of limited means such as yourself acquire a ticket onto this luxurious ship?"

Trust her to be the obnoxious, snobbish woman that she was- she just had to provoke the people that she deemed lesser than herself.

In my mind there was no one lower than her.

"It was a combination of events that led to my brother and I getting tickets- we didn't steal them if that was what anyone was thinking. We may be poor but we are honourable men," Will started, tone sharp enough to make anyone that had suspected them to be thieves to think twice, before his voice sounded slightly pained, "usually we travel around as stowaways, or due to funding from Alan's employers."

"So you live off of your brother then?" Ciel cut in, making the target of the interrogation's eyebrows twitch.

"Not exactly- we work together," Will explained in an empty voice, "I also generate a small amount with my artwork."

"And what, pray tell, do you two do?" Angelina continued, trying to latch onto something she could provoke him with, completely ignoring the latter part of his answer due to her distaste and disapproval of art in general.

Then again, it was probably much better that she didn't ask about his art as it wouldn't exactly suit anyone at the table's taste- other than myself, and possibly my father.

"Dear, wouldn't it be more ladylike to stop harassing the guest to our table?" I asked Madam Red condescendingly, sending a glare at the bluenette as well, "You too, Ciel. It's most improper behaviour."

I probably should have hidden my smirk after saying that; as it would only have gotten me in even more trouble with my father than I already was, but it wasn't possible at the time.

"Please continue to explain how you and you brother got on board, Mr Spears," the demon Earl requested after trying to hide his entertainment behind his glass of champagne, not even scolding me with his eyes.

"Right, well, we got the tickets though a very unlikely manoeuvre on my part," Will said, a smile almost touching his lips, "we had never been men of gambling or anything of the sort, but the one time I've ever taken a chance and played one hand of poker, I won us the two tickets aboard this great ship."

"So it was complete chance that got you here?" I gasped, not really having thought about it before.

"Yes, it was chance that I won the tickets just as much as it was chance that I was outside to save you last night," he nodded, eyes sparkling with the reflections of the chandeliers above.

"Yes, it seems that all life is a game of luck," the Chinese noble chuckled, his silent partner nodding in agreement.

"Well, I have methods of making my own luck," Angelina shrugged, glancing back at her butler with an arrogant smile, "so you believe it is acceptable to live in such a reckless and unpredictable way?"

"Actually, Lady Durless, I do," he nodded, a slight frown forming for just a second before he shook it away, "I'm a man of simple needs; I've got all that I need with me- myself, my brother, the air in my lungs, and a few blank pieces of paper. I'm only making assumptions, but I doubt that any people of your stature get the opportunity to wake up and have no idea where the day will take you. However, my life is so unpredictable, and so very refreshing compared to having a schedule that plans everything out. For instance, the other day I was with my brother in an abandoned house, the next in a lodging house, then under a bridge, but now, here we are on the world's most beautiful ship, and I get the opportunity to dine with you fine people."

I grinned at Will, enjoying hearing someone who had so little, educate the people that believed they had so much, on happiness.

"The way you say it, life sounds like a fantasy," Ciel scoffed, shaking his head in ridicule, "an idiotically optimistic perception of a lie."

"Exactly," I agreed with a smile at Will, "like a fool's dream. But who is to say that a dream cannot become a reality?"

"Precisely, Grell. My brother has an incurable illness that could kill him at any moment, but he won't give up, and that's only fuelled our desires to live life to its fullest. We've had it rough, but I believe that life is a reality that was once a dream; a gift, and no matter my life's outcome, I don't intend on wasting a second," the black haired man continued confidently, "living as we do makes a man appreciate the little things and teaches you that you never know what hand you'll be dealt next, to take life as it comes at you, and make each day count- after all, it could be your last."

Each of us stared at him with wide eyes, and many different thoughts on what he'd said- but no one could ever deny the power in his words.

Everything he'd spoken of made me long to live as he did, to just live what was once a dream and find the ability to appreciate every little thing that is never developed if brought up by a powerful family.

I needed that life once more.

There had been a time, long ago, when my father and I did have such a ruthless existence, but that life was snatched away by the chance at a better life; making us lose the perfection before us to the aristocratic abomination.

Alois, who had been smiling appreciatively at Will in a daze, straightened up.

"Well said, William," he beamed, his voice sounding enlightened by the man's words.

"To making it count," I announced, raising my glass of champagne in a toast, drawing surprised glares from Angelina, Ash and Ciel.

Everyone, bar the three and my father, repeated my toast, raising their glasses also before drinking.

I met those double green eyes with a smile that reflected on his own lips; a gesture that spoke volumes to one another, yet I had no recollection of what was said in those calm, content expressions.

Small groups had their own individual discussions for a little while following the group conversation.

"In a moment all the men except the two Midfords will be led into Mr Lau's Opium infused quarters with Miss Ran Mao, where they'll get high and brag about unlimited power," I grinned as I whispered in Will's ear, drawing an amused look from the man.

Not a minute later, the Chinese nobleman gave the signal.

"Gentlemen, will you join us for some other refreshments?" Mr Lau asked, looping an arm around his tigress' slim waist.

"I'll go, but I won't be indulging in your vile product," my father announced as he stood up.

"I'll partake," Ash cheered quietly, "opium does cleanse the soul."

"Then I will be sure not to inhale any," the red eyed man chuckled arrogantly.

"Likewise," the butler in black agreed as his master got up.

In total, my father, Ciel, Ash, Claude, Alois, Soma and Agni left with the Chinese couple, leaving me with the Midfords, Angelina and Will.

"Won't you be joining them, Mr Spears?" the Marquess asked with raised eyebrows, "Myself, my wife and my son are heading off- you don't want to be left with the women, do you?"

Uh, did he just call me a woman or simply ignore my presence?

"No, I think I'll be turning in for the night too," the semi-reaper smoothly declined.

After watching the family leave, I let out a sigh.

"Do you really have to go?" I pouted at the green eyed man.

"Yes, I think I've overstayed my welcome," he nodded quietly, eyes flicking towards my fiancé, who was chatting with Elizabeth, "besides, I belong below with the others that don't belong anywhere."

I allowed a small smile at his words as he shook my hand formally, the ladies' gazes drifting to us.

"Well, Mr Spears, it was interesting to speak with you," Angelina stated, seeming to struggle for the correct term, Elizabeth happily nodding.

"Yes, it was an educational experience," Will agreed curtly, making the woman sniff in indifference and resume talking to the young blonde.

"Goodnight, Grell," he whispered, taking my hand again, and gently kissing the back of it, pressing a piece of paper into my palm, before shaking it as a man usually would with the hand of another man.

My eyes widened at the smooth, intimate gesture, and my cheeks heated up to almost an impossible temperature.

A kiss, from Will!

I'd never expected to be graced with anything from my heroic Will, but there it was; something I'd always desired: a kiss from someone that I was really in love with.

Wait, I couldn't be in love with him after just a day.

Or could I?

It was possible, some people did just click together very quickly like Will told me that Alan and Eric had.

I'd earlier been wondering if I just generally wanted him, but it seemed to be more than that.

Perhaps I really had found the right person after so many centuries.

And maybe, just maybe, I did have a chance.

"Goodnight, Will," I replied softly to hide my hyperventilation, giving an understanding nod before he bode the other two goodnight and left.

As soon as the ladies were chatting again- mostly about Ciel, I unfolded the paper to read the note.

_'Just this once, don't let their chains bind you. Listen to what you really want, and take a chance at freedom; make it count. Meet me at the clock.'_

He really wanted me to meet him?

I screwed up the paper and slipped it into my pocket before standing.

"Sorry to interrupt, Lady Elizabeth," I nodded to the young Midford girl, and then looked to Madam Red, "Angelina, I'm not feeling too well again, so I'm heading back to the room or out to the deck for some fresh air. I would offer to escort you back, but you can't leave Elizabeth here on her own."

"Oh, right," she nodded in surprise, and then narrowed her scarlet eyes at me, "I hope you haven't contracted a disease; you've been ill a lot lately and your cheeks are awfully flushed. I'll have to check you over later."

"Don't worry, demons and reapers can't get ill," I chuckled at her ridiculousness, and then felt an internal guilt as I recalled Will's brother's state.

"Fine, I'll see you later," she huffed, turning back to the blonde.

"Goodnight, Grell," Elizabeth said quietly with a smile, "I hope you feel better soon."

"Thanks," I nodded appreciatively to the young lady, "night, Elizabeth."

Without a word or even a glance at my fiancé, I strolled away, weaving past waiters bearing drinks and other retiring nobles as I made my way towards the grand staircase, on which stood the great clock.

As expected, that brilliant man in black was stood right in the centre where the lower banister ended, facing the aforementioned clock.

I couldn't help but notice that he had a flawlessly straight back that carried the flowing fabric of the tailcoat so well.

He just seemed to look perfect from every angle.

Careful not to let my heels make a sound on the floor, I sneaked up behind him to sit on the banister just behind him.

"Evening, Mr Spears," I sang quietly, with a playful grin that he turned around to chuckle very lightly at.

"So, Grell, do you want to see what kind of parties Ronald and Eric enjoy?" he asked, the slight smile evolving into a grin that almost mirrored my own as he offered me a hand.

I took the soft hand with an excited nod, still holding onto it as we eagerly raced through the decks, laughing at the incredulous expressions of the first class passengers as we flew past them.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N Ah this chapter took me so long to write and I'm not as pleased with it as the others, but it's finally done so here you go anyway.**

**As always, thanks to everyone that's reviewed, followed or favourited :3 I will eventually get round to messaging you all to thank you personally~**

Chapter 5

It didn't take long for us to realise that Will actually had no idea where he was leading me, but by following the sounds of thunderous laughter and music, we quickly found the hall in which the party was taking place.

The event was most likely just how the third class people ate dinner, but the ambiance certainly gave it the title of party.

"Oi, what're you two doin' all the way down 'ere?" one of the men sitting at the table closest to the door growled at us, getting up as we entered the room, "Go back to yer fancy ball where ya belong."

I sighed and rolled my eyes at the friendly reception, before looking at a rather unimpressed Will.

The man that'd chosen to protest was a stout, middle aged man that looked as though he'd drank his fair share of alcohol already.

Obviously neither of us would have had any trouble at all getting rid of the rugged man before us, but such a crowded room certainly wasn't capable of withstanding any form of violence; it's result in a full on brawl.

"William, Grell?" a voice laughed from the nearer the centre of the room, making the grumpy little man glance back to the dance floor to find the cornrowed reaper, dressed in an impressively eye catching purple suit, "Didn't expect to find you two down here."

"You know these two?" one of the other men from the table asked with a strong Irish accent.

"Yes, and if anyone gives them any trouble, they'll have me to answer to," Eric growled to the table of rowdy men, glaring pointedly at the one standing before us, and then grinned at us, "come on over to the group."

We followed Eric with raised eyebrows as we squeezed through the thin gaps between intoxicated dancers that staggered around the hall to the small band's loud, fast tempo music.

"William!" the voice of Will's younger brother reached us as we made it to the table, shortly before the younger black suited man leapt onto his brother for a hug, "How are you?"

The black haired man stiffened, studying his brother's happy, yet not-entirely-there, expression sceptically.

"I'm well, thank you, Alan," Will started, and then glared at Eric as he sat down next to the Undertaker, "you, I see that you managed to get my brother drunk."

"Erm, yeah," he replied, rubbing the back of his head as he averted Will's eyes, making the Undertaker start to giggle, "I didn't realise he was such a lightweight."

"Well," Will sighed, before smirking ever so slightly, and clasping a hand onto Eric's shoulder, "congratulations; you've done something that I'd come to believe was impossible. He's never actually accepted a drink in his life- that I've noticed."

The silver haired reaper was lost to a fit of hysterical laughter at the cornrowed man's relieved breath, instantly diffusing the tension.

There was an almost invisible, gentle smile on the black haired man's lips as he pried his brother off of him, and nudged him onto a chair next to the guffawing Undertaker.

Will and Alan did seem to have an interesting relationship; they seemed loyal to each other, but Will certainly wasn't afraid to put his younger brother in his place, and yet the care for the chestnut haired man was obvious in Will's tone when he spoke about him, even though he spoke so formally to him.

"Well, I'll leave him to you," Eric grinned, calling over the music that had been gradually increasing in volume, filling the room with cheers, "I'm heading to get something a little stronger, anyone want anything?"

"I'll take anything that resembles vodka," the Undertaker shrugged happily, calming himself from the laughter, and passed the cornrowed reaper some money as the rest of us declined.

I watched in awe as Eric danced so expertly through the crowd to get to his destination.

"If you want something to drink, I suggest that you claim some of those before the ladies' man gets back," the eldest reaper grinned, gesturing to the small cluster of pint glasses filled with what looked like beer, amongst the many empty ones, "lets just say that most of those are his!"

I grabbed a pair of full glasses with a chuckle, and handed one to the astounded Will before sitting down.

The room erupted in applause and general sounds of approval as the song drew to an end.

"Thanks," he nodded to me, took a sip, and then let out a long sigh, "it's been a while since I've tasted beer."

"Germany, three years ago, no?" Alan murmured, looking up at his sibling, who nodded in agreement, and then sat up as Will sank into the chair between us, "What are you doing? You should ask her to dance."

Ah, a chance to dance with Will would be just perfect.

I accidentally let a celebratory giggle slip from my lips, as I let the fantasy of us dancing together dominate my mind.

Behind his stone eyes and pursed lips, I caught the miniscule spark that showed Will was considering it.

"Yes, I have a feeling that the next song will be a good one," the Undertaker smiled helpfully.

I watched as Will's frowned and cleared his throat.

"Perhaps that wouldn't be such a good idea," Will stated monotonously, glancing down into his glass.

Damn.

I felt my cheerful expression drop in intensity at his declination- still a sharp toothed grin, but a fairly pathetic one.

"Oh yes; you've got two left feet," Alan laughed, sending the silver haired reaper into another string of giggles, "but I suppose you can't be worse than that guy I danced with in that hotel in Paris- he was dreadful. No, wait, that was you. You know, you are a terrible dancer, William, maybe you should take dance lessons when we get to New York..."

Will and I stared at the younger reaper in entertained confusion as he continued to ramble about his brother's lack of dancing expertise, Alan's words serving only to enhance the power of the Undertaker's laughter.

The band began to play once again, starting a slightly less loud yet just as fast song.

Glancing over towards the middle of the room, I spotted that the band was quite a small group that included of some interesting looking characters: the guitarist was a young, orange haired man dressed in blue circus-like clothing with lots of theatre make up on and a fleur-de-lis below his right eye; the man that I was quite sure was his twin held a banjo, the only distinctions from his brother being his darker coloured and different styled circus outfit, his spikier hair, and the tear-like marking below his left eye.

The violinist looked like a fragile, timid young girl and was dressed in a small, frilled white dress; the man smoothly attacking the drum looked fairly ordinary in a long brown coat, and a matching brown bowler hat to almost hide his short brownish orange hair- quite a plain man in contrast to the other members of the group.

Most interesting of the band was the vocalist, who wore a simple black tailcoat, had marble white hair, as well as fierce red eyes, small fangs, and black nails much like my father- I was fairly certain that he was some kind of demon.

That made four demonic beings on the ship that I knew of.

Perhaps reapers and demons weren't really as rare as they were made out to be.

"Hey there," a cheerful voice called over the music and the Undertaker as a hand made itself at home on my right shoulder as the other did on Will's left, "welcome to my, and Eric's, natural environment."

I looked upwards at the blonde and black haired reaper with a grin, the somewhat less pleased man beside me picking Ronald's hand off of him.

"Good evening," Will deadpanned, pushing his glasses further up his nose as the 'party reaper' sat on a small stool to my other side.

"Aww, don't be like that," Ronald complained, leaning forwards to pout at Will, and then shrugged with a smirk and looked to me instead, "how are you this evening? Your hair looks lovely like that."

With a charming smile, he took the end of my extremely long plait and used the end like a paintbrush to his skin as he admired it.

"Oh, thank you," I blushed, surprised at his bold compliment, "I'm fine, thanks, how about you?"

"All's good over here," he chuckled, grabbing himself a pint from the collection, "believe it or not, this is my eighth glass."

"Well, that is impressive," I laughed, shaking my head at him, assuming that he could keep going either because reapers had a fairly strong resistance to alcohol or because he'd been partying hard for years and had gotten used to it.

"Hey! Ronald's flirting with Grell, get him!" Alan shouted absently, pointing an accusing finger in our direction.

"Drinking yourself to oblivion is hardly considered a talent!" Will snapped, harsh eyes focused on the chirpy god of death.

Even though the sharpness wasn't directed at me, I couldn't help but appreciate the strength in his voice and expression.

I suppose his cold façade was fascinating to me in a way- in front of others, he put on that same type of defensive front that I'd been forcing myself to wear for years.

The only problem was that I couldn't find a reason for his.

Why was he so icy and argumentative?

Yet, when we were speaking alone, he seemed the nicest man I'd ever known.

He was such a hard man to read; he hadn't been sharp towards me since our first meeting, but why towards the others?

It was best to just shrug it off as survival instinct or some sort of inferiority issue; being the most human in a group of reapers, but it still seemed like there was more to him than that.

The blonde and black haired man silently rose from his seat.

For just a moment, I was worried that Will had actually started something serious, and I could see the same unsettlement on the Undertaker's face as he flicked his fringe aside to better assess the situation with his ancient eyes, letting me notice for the first time the long scar that ran under his right eye.

How had I missed that before?

"Hm, if you think so," Ronald shrugged indifferently at the black haired man's attitude, before wandering off in the general direction of the bar, almost bumping into his brother that was just returning.

The pair of lively reapers paused for a moment to share a glance, and then both returned to the table.

"I disagree," Eric chuckled as he set down a variety of drinks and what looked like shots, nudging a transparent one towards the Undertaker, "but no matter; this could be the only opportunity we get to all hang out together, so let's just try not to irritate one another too much."

Eric's eyes shifted very obviously to Will at his words, before he ran a hand through his hair with a chuckle and sat between the oldest reaper and his brother.

The oldest reaper, huh?

Reapers began to physically age extremely slowly at the end of their teen years, which was why they have such long lifespans, but demons' bodies aged even slower after a certain point in their lifetimes; I could be much older than the Undertaker for all I knew.

Then again, his eyes had certainly seen a fair few centuries, and that scar looked old enough.

"Then let's take turns asking the whole group a question," I suggested with a grin, "what better to do with friends you barely know, right?"

"And, if you choose to pass answering, you have to down one of these!" Ronald cheered, pointing to the many glasses on the table, completely recovering from his deflation at the aspect of adding alcohol to the game.

"Why not?" Will shrugged, seemingly choosing to shake off his grouchiness and have a little fun, "Who's going first?"

"I will!" the silver haired man volunteered, not giving anyone else a chance to even open their mouth, "What size are your feet?"

The majority of the table looked between the Undertaker and everyone else in confusion, before simply accepting the man's rather odd question.

"Well, mine are 9.25 inches," Will chuckled, bravely choosing to answer the madman first.

There was a yet another sudden round of applause from the centre of the room that couldn't have been more beautifully timed.

Glancing over my shoulder, I noted that the band seemed to be taking a break.

"8.79," I stated slowly with my eyebrows raised, following the lead of the rectangular spectacled man.

"9.41 for both of us," Eric grinned, pointing a finger between himself and Ronald.

"Hey, look! Brothers with the same feet size!" Alan almost shouted with a grin; still suffering painfully from the alcohol's effects.

"Twins," Ronald corrected him with a smirk.

Wait, twins?

"Oh, I didn't realise you were twins," I pointed out, leaning my head on my hand as I studied their amused expressions.

"Obviously not identical; we don't look much alike," Ronald grinned as the others agreed with my statement.

"But we do tend to act quite similarly," Eric shrugged in their usual carefree manner.

"8.327 inches exactly," Alan stated, having a single sober second before his head hit the table with a loud thud, the only signal that he was fine was the snoring that followed.

"He's got tiny feet and he can't hold his drink- how cute!" the Undertaker giggled, wiping a drip of drool off of his chin.

Lovely.

Eh, who was I to judge the loon?

"I'll go next," Eric announced, shaking his head with a smile at the brunette that was considered out of the game, "what is your most-"

"Excuse me!" a voice called from behind Will, myself, and Ronald.

We all turned around to look curiously at the white haired band member that I'd labelled as a demon.

"Hello there," the Undertaker greeted him with a grin as the rest of us continued to watch him, "anything we can do for you? Do you want to join us?"

"Oh, thanks but no; I'm just here to give your friend here a heads up," he shook his head quickly at the elderly reaper, directing a hand towards me.

"If anyone has an issue with Grell, I can vouch for him," Will stated quickly, eyeing the man suspiciously.

I couldn't deny that I felt a warmth in my chest at how quickly the man defended me.

"No, I wasn't, well, yes. No, let me start again," the young man stumbled over his words, earning a few bemused looks, and then looked to me, "Grell, there was an angel here looking for you a little while ago."

"An angel? How do you know it was an angel? And how can you be sure they were looking for Grell? He hasn't done anything wrong," Eric quickly interrogated the nervous visitor.

With a roll of the eyes, I pressed a finger to the demon's lips, and sat him down on a stool that was lying around behind Ronald.

"Tell me everything," I ordered him softly, my eyes the image of urgency as they peered into his vibrant red ones.

Despite the fact that I was entirely facing him, I could feel the eyes of everyone conscious watching us curiously.

"Right," he murmured with a firm nod.

The young demonic man ran a hand through his stylishly scruffy hair.

"Firstly, I'm Pluto, half dog demon, so I have very sensitive hearing and a strong sense of smell that means I can literally smell what kind of creature anyone is. For instance, on Grell there's the scent of...," he trailed off as my eyes widened and darted between him and the men just behind me, desperately telling him not to give away my identity, "death and warmth, so he's half grim reaper and half human, just like Alan and William."

"Oh, a demon- nice!" the blonde and black haired man cheered, leaning over my shoulder towards Pluto, "I've never met anyone with any fraction of demonic blood before, so it's nice to meet you. The name's Ronald."

Well, it was good to know that Ronald had nothing against demons.

"Hello there," the dog demon smiled, happy to be receiving a friendly response, "ah yes, so I could easily smell the angel; they have a terribly sweet and pure fragrance that's unmistakeable- much like a demon's irresistibly hot scent of lust. Anyway, the woman was definitely an angel and was complaining about being sent to find a 'stupid red being'; of course I'm not considering you stupid, Grell, but you are very red in every aspect."

I let out a sigh of relief, a light smile aimed at Pluto as he finished his explanation.

So I must have actually smelled of hot, deadly lust- how fitting.

"Thank you," I nodded, and he could see that I clearly meant for more than just the notification, "by the way, the music is good; keep it up."

"Thank you!" he grinned, fangs on full display, and then looked to the rest of our group of reapers, "Just call if any of you have a request."

I chuckled in agreement as Pluto dived back into the sea of people to reach the band that was patiently waiting for him.

I turned back around to the table, noticing that Alan was somewhat awake again, trying to shake the haziness from his mind.

"An angel, a half demon, and a group of reapers, all isolated on a ship for another four days," the Undertaker mused, flicking one of his braids with a bony finger, "this is getting exciting."

"If you think that is exciting, I should mention the two pure blooded demons that are onboard too," I chuckled at the silver haired reaper without really thinking, and then inwardly cursed myself for my carelessness, "they were both on the same table as my family last night."

"Seriously?" Ronald gasped, a grin on his face, "Point them out to me if you see them again when I'm around."

"I will," I smirked into my glass as I took a gulp of beer, "I'll point out the angel too; he's my fiancé's butler."

"You have an interesting family," Eric laughed, shaking his head with a smile.

"Well, that was a lot to take in, but the really important part is that," the chestnut haired reaper murmured, groggily turning to his brother, "you still haven't asked Grell to dance."

"Alan," Will sighed, pinching the bridge of his, "I believe we've already been through this."

"I was just saying," the younger reaper mumbled, smoothing down his hair with a quiet tut.

As the black haired man was busy fussing over his brother's partially drunk state, Eric, Ronald, and the Undertaker passed around a slight smirk that swiftly matured into a full bodied grin.

Someone was definitely up to something.

With a nod each from the other two reapers, Ronald downsized his almost cheesy grin to a friendly smile, and then caught my eye.

"Well, since you look like the type of person that'd enjoy a little fun," Ronald started, standing up, and then smiling down at me, offering me a hand, "would you care to dance, Madame?"

That was certainly unexpected.

"Oh, uh, I," I stuttered, glancing towards the fuming Will, only widening Ronald's smile back into a grin.

"Come on; he won't be asking anytime soon," he chuckled, inclining his head at the sour human-reaper.

I might as well take up the offer as it may be my only chance to dance in such a wild manner, but it oddly felt as though I'd be betraying the cryptic man that had accidentally captured my formerly empty heart.

Make it count.

With a nibble on my lip and a reluctant nod, I took his hand and followed him to the slightly raised floor in the centre of the room, leaving behind the frowning black haired man.

"Thanks for asking me up her, but I, well," I started, looking down at our feet as we bounced around to the beat with the numerous couples.

"Jealousy is a powerful weapon," the man smirked, "and if Alan is right, then his brother is definitely the jealous type. Don't worry, I know you're not interested in me; I'm just helping you both along and provoking a little action."

"Really?" I gasped and then let out a giggle, "How can you tell that I...?"

"Oh, it's obvious," he laughed freely, shaking his head at me, and then corrected himself when he saw my alarm; if my attraction to Will was that clear then Angelina would probably have noticed, "I mean that I can see it easily because I spend a lot of time studying how people react to one another- it's a hobby of mine, and it lets me pick up quite a few flirting techniques."

"Ah, I see," I laughed with an understanding nod and a sigh of relief, and then lowered my voice even though there was no chance of us being overheard with us so close to the blaring music, "so do you really think it's possible, me and him? And, how about Eric and Alan? Just for my curiosity's sake."

"Didn't anyone ever tell you that curiosity killed the cat?" he grinned, and then cheekily poked a small pink tongue out at me, "Well, Eric and Alan are a definite. I think it's their similar feelings of emptiness that make it easier for them to understand each other; take Eric, he's my twin brother, but he's always felt as though he was born alone and I'm a part of him, for some reason that I'll never get. And then there's Alan, who was despised by his brother for years when he was younger because he was more of a reaper than William, so he really was alone and never lost that feeling when the pair started getting along fine over the last couple of hundred years, and then there's his disease too that distances him from everyone else."

I raised my eyebrows in surprise at how much depth the man had gone into in his observations.

"Despite all of that, when Eric and Alan are together, they can't feel their loneliness," he explained with a faraway look in his eyes, and then his eyes met mine with a smirk, "as for you and your interest, it seems to be good. He's a very distant guy, yet he has a sharp temper- just like you, and you're both hiding behind the masks that you wear to push away the rest of the world. Also, if you laugh once more or continue looking that impressed, he'll be over here for sure."

I felt my pulse speed up upon hearing that he thought me and Will were doing well; maybe the chances of me and Will ending up together really weren't as low as I'd thought.

"I'm astounded; you really do study relationships remarkably," I grinned in awe, "thank you for sharing that with me."

"No problem at all- consider it my way of repaying you for agreeing to join me for a dance," he smiled, and then glanced over my shoulder at the reaper table, before shuddering, "speaking of interesting relationships, it looks like the old man's making eyes at me!"

"Good luck, Ronnie!" I laughed, feeling the moisture build in my eyes at the image of the Undertaker flirting with the younger man.

Well, good for him.

Heh, no wonder reapers seemed so rare; they all appeared to be going for the same gender.

Though, it was fairly common for people to die and then come back to life as a reaper at random, instead of couples with reaper blood having children.

"Ah, here comes your Prince Charming now," he chuckled quietly, "just be yourself- your real self, and you'll be together in no time."

I smiled my thanks for his warm words as I found Will looming over us both.

"May I cut in?" he asked the blonde and black haired reaper in a smooth, confident tone.

"Sure, it's about time!" Ronald smirked as he passed my hand to the rectangular spectacled man, and then skipped off with a cheerful wave and a wink.

As he headed back to his partners in crime, I was sure that I could hear a bout of laughter erupt from the table of reapers.

I was going to end up owing them a lot- hopefully.

"You know, Alan was telling the truth when he said that I can't dance," Will admitted sheepishly as he held my hip loosely with one hand and narrowly avoided stepping on my foot, "I would have asked sooner if not for that, and I wasn't sure if you'd want to."

"Don't worry about it," I smiled softly at his cute, timid, little explanation, edging closer to him and looping my arm over his shoulder, "just follow my lead- it's not really a dance anyway; more of a jumping contest between all of the couples."

"Then let's win this," he chuckled, holding tighter as the music developed a fuller body and an even faster pace.

I gave a quick nod of agreement accompanied by a Cheshire grin, and set to work bouncing around the room with Will, moving my feet out of the way every time his shoes got a little too close.

Whereas my dance with Ronald had been fairly calm and full of discussion, what I shared with Will was so much more energetic, yet also more intimate- despite the fact that it was the same dance.

As the black haired man and I danced together around the room, our bodies moved in perfect harmony, my heels no longer noisily clacking on the wood, but tapping perfectly to the beat of the drum.

It felt as though I needn't think of anything other than Will; not the marriage looming in my future, not the hateful words of my father- just Will.

Will, my escape from everything.

Time flew by beautifully as we swept around the dance floor that was gradually losing worn out pairs, laughing at nothing in particular the whole time; perhaps it was the situation itself.

So that was what it felt to really let go of yourself.

We barely noticed that Eric and a slightly sober Alan had made it to the dancing area at some point, as well as the Undertaker and a rather awkward looking Ronald.

"I'd say that this competition is well won!" he smiled once we were the only two left, surrounded by a sea of jolly people clapping to the beat and calling all kinds of encouragements to us.

"I suppose we should put an end to this then, or we'll only dance the night away!" I chuckled jokingly to him, and then glanced to the band, the guitarist nodding and bringing the song to a close.

"You guys already have!" someone from the crowd laughed, earning a few drunken cheers.

As we finally stopped in time with the music, Will graced the back of my hand with a chaste kiss, just as he had back in the ballroom, pulling a mass of applause and hoots of approval from our audience.

Exhausted from all of the exercise, we headed back to the table of friends, where we eagerly downed the rest of our drinks.

"You two put on quite a show!" Eric pointed out with a satisfied grin as we both melted into our chairs, glad to take the pressure off of our feet.

"Thanks," Will smiled, raising his empty glass in the cornrowed reaper's direction as the band was beginning to bring the night to a close with much slower and calmer music for the less energetic couples to dance to.

"Yes, for someone that can't dance, you really can dance," Alan laughed at his brother with a glass of water in his hand- rightfully having decided against any more alcohol.

"Thank you, I think," the black haired brother chuckled quietly, but then his voice dropped into a dead serious tone, "Alan, are you feeling alright?"

It wasn't until then that I noticed how the younger brother's hand that wasn't holding the water seemed to be dancing agitatedly across his chest.

"I'm fine; a bit too much drink and dancing," he shrugged with a calm smile, "and far too much laughing- mostly at you."

"Hey!" Will complained, feeling just a tad targeted by Alan's remarks.

A few drinking games later- from which Alan sat out, I finally started to feel the effects of the long day, and found myself struggling to fight off the yawns.

"Tired?" Will asked, nudging me gently in the shoulder while the Undertaker was howling with laughter at the twins.

After we'd decided that it was time to go easy on the drinks, we'd resorted to some impossibly entertaining dares.

"Just a bit," I nodded with a shrug, and then failed in hide a yawn, "do you have any idea what time it is?"

He just smiled gently and shrugged in reply.

"Quarter to three," a bare chested Ronald called as he ran past his shirtless brother; half stripping having been the latest dare from the mortician, much to the pleasure of the few other late night partners that were still up.

"Ah, I should probably head back for the night, or morning I suppose," I sighed with a light laugh, stroking a hand through my hair as I stood up and stretched my legs.

"Do you want me to escort you back to your quarters?" Will suggested, rising from his chair too.

"No, it's quite alright, thank you," I declined with a smile, and then looked to the rest of the group once everyone had stopped running around, "thanks for letting me stay with you guys; I had a great time."

"It was no problem at all- you're good company," the Undertaker shrugged with his usual grin, "you'll always be welcome with us."

After thanking the silver haired reaper for his kind words and the exchange of the 'goodnight's, I caught Will's worried look.

"Are you sure you wouldn't like me to walk you back?" the black haired man asked quietly, "I don't want any other crewmen trying anything with you."

"I'm sure- if we ran into Ash or my father on the way back, we'd have a lot of explaining to do," I smiled sadly, unable to keep the remorse out of my eyes at the thought of leaving this sanctuary of wild yet caring reapers for the torturous cage of aristocracy, "besides, it's not like I can't deal with them if I need to."

"Alright, if you're sure," he nodded in surrender with a whisper of a smile.

"Goodnight, Will," I whispered in his ear as I started to walk slowly past him, hardly stopping as I quickly delivered a light kiss to his cheek, sending a playful smile his way as he stared after me in shock.

Though it certainly wasn't an unpleasant look of shock; a look of surprised delight even.

If the redness that had instantly developed on his cheeks was any indicator, he'd definitely appreciated that.

I heard the reapers' laughter echoing through the hall as I left the room of which I'd always keep such fond memories, and hopefully be visiting again soon.

I made it back to the family's quarters quite swiftly, without meeting anyone wandering the corridors.

I found myself taking a deep breath as I reached the door; the last barrier between freedom and the life in captivity that I had to return to.

Managing to do so silently, I crept through the door into the lounge, and stopped dead in my tracks.

Sitting so regally in the tall, russet armchair in the corner of the room was my father.

With his paralysing, crimson orbs focused entirely on me, it was impossible to pretend that I hadn't noticed his presence, so I simply stood there; awaiting the verdict.

He continued to stare at me for almost half a minute, before he simply smirked and waved me away, burying his face back in the book he'd held at his side.

Raising my eyebrows at his lack of reaction, I hurried onwards to my bedroom, thinking better than to hang around the demon any longer.

But still, it was very odd for the crow not to even glare at me in such a situation.

Regardless of my father's strange behaviour, I much preferred to relive the more fun events of the night in my mind.

Without really noticing doing so, I'd changed into my scarlet nightwear and set to work undoing the surprisingly immaculate plait in my hair.

As I finally slunk below the soft covers of my bed, I heard what sounded like an irritated huff from a couple of rooms to my left.

Damn.

The morning was not something I looked forward to.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

"Grell, get up," her voice echoed meaninglessly in my head, though I paid it no attention.

There was a smile on my lips as the memories from that previous night danced across my mind.

The best night I'd had in centuries.

All thanks to that amazing man and the band of playful reapers.

"Don't you dare ignore your mistress!" the harsh voice that sent chills through my spine snarled in my ear, and then I felt a hand clasp my throat.

Acting upon my instincts, I summoned my scythe and sliced at the hand instantly without even opening my eyes.

As expected, the angel let go of me to dodge the whirring blade, leaving me a moment to leap from my bed and land in a crouch on the cold floor.

"Foul creature!" he snapped, though his voice was barely a whisper over the roar of my scythe.

"I appreciate the wake up call," I smirked, finally opening my eyes to assess how mad they were, "to what do I owe the pleasure?"

I acted as though I were clueless as I turned off the engine of my scythe, but I knew exactly why they were there; punishment.

"Grell, let's make this simple," Angelina sighed, straightening the ruby hat that lay atop her head with a frown, "you were out with that band of miscreants last night! Quite frankly, I'm hurt to hear that you'd rather get filthy drunk with a group of people you hardly know, than spent a quiet night with me- your fiancé!"

I let out a chuckle at her attempt to excerpt power over me by playing the 'disloyal' card that would make a lesser man sympathise for the woman, but after all she'd done, she didn't deserve it.

She didn't deserve anything more than hatred from me as a result of how she treated me.

"To think that I was actually worried about you," she sighed, resting the back of her hand to her forehead, "you should spend more time with me."

I stood up straight, and smoothed down the negligée that hung loosely from my lithe form, smirking at the woman.

"Worried? You?" I scoffed at her poor acting, shaking my head with a bitter laugh, "No, Angelina; you are incapable of worrying about anyone other than yourself. And for your information, I have a right to go wherever I please, with whomever I wish, so don't you dare presume to lecture me!"

My words came out in snarls, feeling that hateful power throbbing in my eyes as I glared into her cold, crimson orbs.

"You belong to me!" she screamed at me, startling me with her possessiveness, "You will do as you are told and act as is expected of you!"

"I can't be controlled," I replied icily, "least of all by the likes of you."

Suddenly her face was devoid of all emotion, bringing me a certain bout of satisfaction upon silencing the wretch, if even for a moment.

"Ash!" she called her butler's name sharply, setting her angel on me.

I raised my scythe to defend myself from whatever attack would be coming my way, letting the motor roar to life.

The white butler simply smiled at me, and slowly reached for the sword he kept at his hip.

So, it was going to be a good old fashioned duel, huh?

Well, somewhat old fashioned.

Like lightening, his hand darted past the hilt of the sword, to something behind him, and then threw a handful of small projectiles at me.

Despite my body's natural swiftness, I couldn't move fast enough to dodge whatever was thrown or even deflect them with my blade.

My weapon slipped from my grasp as five sharp objects were embedded in my chest.

A scream escaped my lips as my legs buckled beneath me, leaving me to writhe in unbearable pain on the floor as my chest felt as though it were being consumed by flames.

I no longer had any control over my body; lost to the excruciation that was spreading from my chest like a poison.

Through barely open eyes, I noticed the angel switch from its proud male form, to the slightly more psychotic female side.

"It hurts, doesn't it, disgusting, impure creature?" Angela smirked, admiring the agony caused by her handiwork.

Such a corrupted angel.

Rumours and gossip between the few that knew about Madam Red's butler said that he/she was once known as the 'Angel of Massacre'.

They were dead right about that.

Though, it may have been given a grand title, but it was nothing compared to the name I made for myself; the angel was long forgotten and left to rumour, yet my stage name still struck fear into people twenty four years later.

Managing to take the slightest control, I shakily raised a hand to one of the sources of the pain.

I'd assumed it to be a bullet or small dagger, but found some sort of soft stick.

A feather?

Feathers from an angel's wing?

My ears began to ring as my mind tried to escape the pain and desert my body in the process.

In my lifetime I had been through so many forms of torture that would kill a human, such as being burned at a stake, poisoned, and drowned, but I had always survived, as those were simple mortal techniques.

This was so much worse.

I had never had never felt so weak, so close to death.

It was so much more than I could take.

I never thought I would end in such a lonely, degrading way, but I had to give in.

I'm sorry, Will.

"J-just k-k-ki-" I started to wheeze, my eyes rolling back from the strain and bodily abuse.

"Angelina, I believe that the church session is about to begin," the smooth voice of my father announced from the doorway; affected in no way by the sight of my suffering, "you will be attending, yes?"

A slight frown fell on to the angel's face as she switched back to male at the demon's arrival.

"Thank you, Sebastian," she nodded, and then headed to the doorway he lingered in, her butler in tow, "I apologise for leaving this here for you to clean up."

The arrogant woman in red flicked her eyes down to me as she spoke, putting emphasis on my title.

"It's not a problem," he smiled sweetly at her, and then glared at the angel, "though I would appreciate it if you were to order your butler not to perform such severe punishment for only a minor discretion."

"I'll take it into consideration," she quipped, before strutting past the demon with the man in white.

The red eyed man waited for the main door to open and close, before finally giving a huff.

"Grell, why do you get yourself into such horrible messes?" he asked in a mocking tone as he crouched down beside my spasming form, "Angels are so extreme."

His voice hurt my fragile ears; it was far too loud and high pitched up close- even over my whines.

A powerful arm held me down, working as a bar across my shoulders as he plucked out one of the quills.

As soon as the single feather was pulled from my chest, I felt the pain lower in intensity, calming me to an extent that he no longer needed to hold me still.

"Angelic weapons are the worst; they work to purify any tainted soul, affecting demonic beings the most powerfully," he lectured me with a frown as he pulled out the remaining four crimson-dyed plumes, "but angel down is excruciating; purified energy from the angel itself trying to cleanse a soul. It's almost fatal to a demon, for instance, the only way I would be able to survive such an attack would be if I were to change into my true form within a couple of minutes of the energy entering my body. With that being said, why did you leave yourself open to an attack?"

"I've never seen an angel use its own feathers," I panted as I tried to sit up, "and you've never thought to mention it to me."

"It is better to learn through experience," he shrugged, and then poked at one of the holes when I glared at him in response to his answer, "this shouldn't take long to heal; just a few hours."

I just nodded with a sigh as he shuffled up to my neck and checked the scar with a satisfied nod.

"You need to take better care of yourself," he muttered as he started to tear apart my top, already ruined by the bloodstains that only slightly darkened the colour in places.

I mumbled something about being able to undress myself, but ended up with a hand over my mouth to silence my half-hearted protest.

In any other case, I would have bitten the demon simply for letting his guard down enough that I could do so, but he was being strangely caring- for him.

There were no more words exchanged between us as he binded my chest with a long bandage to restrict the bleeding from the gorges the angel had created in my skin.

"I want you to stay away from William and the other reapers," he stated firmly as he finished fixing me up.

"Why?" I asked with a deep frown.

"They are the reason you're in this mess," he huffed, slipping of his stained gloves and throwing them into the bin behind him, "they are turning out to be a bad influence on you."

"The gentlemanly reapers are a bad influence on the psychotic demon-reaper?" I chuckled humourlessly, and then nudged him back a bit so I could push myself up onto my bed, "Anyway, this 'mess' is manageable."

"That's not how you felt a moment ago," he shrugged, and then smirked at the way I swayed slightly, "but my point still stands."

Crossing my legs, propping up an elbow on my knee, and leaning my head on my hand, I studied the silent man for a while, our eyes meeting as we surveyed each other doing nothing.

I spent so much time trying to determine whether I truly hated the demon, or loved him; though I'd never been able to bring myself to an answer.

He was a cruel man that took pleasure in seeing my pain- most of the time, but there were those few moments every now again when he shot me a sympathetic glance; a smile; some advice; help even, yet he would never be able to atone for his greatest crime.

"Why did you do it?" I asked quietly, lifting my head to give him a more assertive frown.

"I've done a lot of things in my time, to which are you referring?" he smiled insincerely, but then caught the look deep in the depths within my eyes, "Ah, you want to know why I'm forcing you to marry Madam Red? I've explained many times before, but I will tell you again; for power."

"You're a demon- you don't need power!" I snapped at him, shaking my head furiously, making myself a little dizzy, "You already have so much more than any human, so why are you really putting me though this?"

"Well, I find it amusing that the humans consider something as common as money to be the source of power," he chuckled bitterly, "my only source of even slight happiness, is the knowledge that we are stealing away the humans' beloved money, leaving the insignificant ones to suffer in the streets like the rats they are."

I let my long fringe fall forwards to cover most of my face in response to his answer.

As expected of a demon, he'd made me undergo so much torture simply for his own entertainment.

I was just a tool to him- no, it was worse than that, I was just a ragdoll to be used and thrown around, but never loved.

Well, perhaps not entirely.

There was one person that appeared to love me.

Even if he was the only one, I was so grateful to have him near.

"I'm going," I announced, ignoring the pain as I slipped on the plain white shirt that had been folded beside my bed, not caring if the wounds bled through; the cloth could have done with a little colour.

I quickly slid into a pair of black slacks and my black heels, before casting a glance to the visibly twitching demon.

"Thank you for dressing my chest," I hissed with a glare, standing up to leave.

"You aren't going anywhere," he growled, clasping a hand around my right wrist, "if you go to him, you will only anger Angelina, which may result in kicking mud over the name we have made for ourselves and lose us some valuable assets."

"You are ridiculous," I groaned, wrenching my hand from his tight grip.

With a snarl, the demon shot up and jabbed a slender finger into one of the holes he'd recently finished bandaging up.

A bone-chilling scream of immense pain escaped my throat as I ripped the digit from my chest, and then lurched forwards with unbidden tears in my eyes.

"I hope Mr Spears enjoys the sound of you breaking," the red eyed man laughed menacingly as I clutched my chest, "he's actually lurking just outside."

My watering eyes widened at his words as realisation hit.

My father was all about power and image- if I was with Will, I should be safe from his lunacy.

As though my very existence depended on it, I bolted for the door, the pain slipping to the back of my mind as I forced my body to move.

I managed to make it through to the lounge before wondering why my father hadn't tried to stop me, and I had literally just laid my hand on the doorknob as I felt it.

My entire being froze as something was stabbed deep into my back, scraping against a rib.

Despite my natural enhancements, my body screamed in protest at the amount of agony it had been forced to endure in the last hour.

"I said, you are not going anywhere!" the demon hissed in my ear, twisting the weapon within me, "You know better than to disobey me."

I let out a weak whimper as he forced the object to scratch my bone again.

Feeling my body shake in such pain and anger, I let go of the doorknob, raising my hands in surrender.

"Never forget just how breakable you are in my hands, Grell," he chuckled, dragging me backwards to the sofa, and throwing me on to it face first, "I want you to beg me to let you go; it's nice to hear you reduced to a helpless creature sometimes."

If spent a vast proportion of my life hating the man, but never had I despised him more than in that moment.

Grinding my teeth together through the tears that streamed down my cheeks, I meowed softly into the cushions; just loud enough for him to hear.

If I'd been in the situation with any other demon as powerful as my father, I'd have begged using words, but when faced by an insane, cat-loving man, imitating the cry of his beloved was the only way out.

"That's better," he laughed lightly, and ripped the long weapon from my back, before flipping me over to dangle the blood-dripping butter knife over my face, coating me in even more of my favourite colour.

"Any movement from you, and I'll go for your eyes," he warned me sharply, sliding the blade over my cheek.

There was a loud crash as the mahogany door flew open, revealing an infuriated black haired man, whose green eyes were wide in horror at the crimson dyed scene before him.

"Will!" I gasped, and then started to choke on the blood that crept up my throat.

"What have you done to him, demon?" he growled, glaring at my father with such fuming anger in his eyes as he strode boldly into the room.

"That doesn't concern you," the red eyed man shrugged, "and I suggest that you make yourself scarce before you get hurt."

"I don't fear noxious beasts such as yourself!" Will snapped venomously, worried eyes flicking to me.

"Then you are a fool," my father sighed, shaking his head with a mocking smirk.

"I'm willing to accept that if that is the cost of not letting you have any power over me," the reaper huffed at the demon, and then cast his eyes over me, seeming to scan my injuries; his expression growing darker and more enraged by the second, "for what you've done to your own son, you don't even deserve to exist!"

Moving faster than I'd seen anything move before, Will had jumped between the maniac and myself, forcing the demon to back off a couple of feet in surprise.

Sure, I knew that Will was fast from how he'd effortlessly tackled Alan on the first day we'd met, but the speed he'd just moved at was impossible.

The green eyed man's stance was obviously that of someone challenging someone to fight; someone mad enough to tempt a demon.

Or brave enough.

"Really, do you have a death wish?" my father frowned, a hand slipping through his fringe, "I'd labelled you as being unconventionally intelligent, but for a mere human-reaper without a weapon to challenge a demon to fight; perhaps I made an error in my judgement."

"This isn't stupidity, it's loyalty," Will stated flatly, "a concept that a creature such as yourself would never understand."

"I beg to differ," the demon frowned, "I'm looking forwards to getting rid of you- you are the reason for his suffering after all."

"I'm the reason? I'm one of the few that actually listens to him and sees him for who he is!" Will yelled recklessly at the man, "You are the one that's hurting him!"

"Goodbye, William," the demon laughed, eyes illuminating to that hideous shade of pink as he slipped a glove off.

As fast and strong as he was, there was no way that the man I loved would be any match at all for my father.

The demon could kill him so easily.

My formerly immobile body responded instantly to the thought, throwing itself into the narrowing space between them, my death scythe aimed at the man in the tailcoat.

"Grell!" the reaper gasped from behind, "Shit, there's so much blood!"

I must have looked disgusting to him, caked in my own blood, my hair dripping the liquid onto the floor with a quiet splashing sound.

"Will, run," I panted, my legs trembling with the strain of keeping me up.

"Would you really try it?" my father asked in an empty voice, a troubled frown upon his face.

I didn't get the chance to answer, as my body gave in, leaving me to fall backwards into the pair of strong arms behind me.

"Grell, hold on!" Will ordered me frantically, squeezing my hand as he lowered me to the ground, "Hang in there!"

"Will," I groaned, eyes rolling back into my head at my body's protests.

"This could have been avoided," the demon sighed- the last thing I heard before blacking out.

Darkness.

Darkness was good; it was something that I could feel at home with; something that I could hide from anything within.

The times when I was faced with blackness when I slept were always so much more relaxing that my troubled dreams- the shadows were simply better company that would hold me close until whatever horrors would greet me when I awoke.

"Grell?" a comforting voice called so softly that I hardly heard it as I stirred, a hand tapping gently against my head.

"Will," I sighed in relief with a calm smile, sliding a hand up to caress the hand stroking my hair, and then opened my eyes to find myself staring up into a pair of cheerless blue ones.

"No, just Bard," the Michaelis butler sighed, straightening up as I quickly let go of his hand, "your fiancé left this for you."

The blonde passed me a folded piece of paper with a fathomlessly sad expression, and then headed to my wardrobe as I read the note.

'I heard about your little mishap earlier; I'm by no means impressed, but meet me in the lounge once you have gotten dressed.

Bardroy will lay out the clothes I've specified, and you are to edit your features accordingly- you know the game, Jack.

If you disobey me, there will be greater consequences than those you have already faced.

Consider your actions carefully in the future.'

That name sent chills through my spine- I did indeed know the game.

I lowered the paper with a deep sigh, watching as Bard hooked my long, dull, coal coloured coat.

Well, this was going to be fun.

But where was Will?

He wouldn't have left me willingly in such a condition- would he?

What if my father...?

No; Will was a careful man.

Though he did appear to be very impulsive.

No, focus on the issue on hand and panic about the possibilities later.

"It's alright, Bard, I know the outfit," I murmured as he started searching for the plain black heels.

"You sure?" he asked without turning around.

"Positive; I know what she's doing," I sighed, getting up off of the bed with a pained gasp, noting that I was still in my blood stained clothes.

"Grell," he said quietly, turning to face me with a light frown.

"Bard, what's wrong? You've been upset about something since last night," I looked worriedly at the butler, who simply frowned back.

"You won't do anything to upset her again, will you? You almost died last time!" he said quickly, voice getting louder by the syllable, "Don't go to him again!"

"Bard, you know me; I'll do whatever I want to, no matter what anyone tells me," I replied sharply, eyes narrowing at his behaviour.

"Don't!" he snapped, storming over to me and grabbing me by the shoulders, the movement catching me by surprise and jolting the painful points in my chest and back, "He's not worth the pain! Just stay with us! Don't go with him! Don't let him take you away!"

I stared blankly at him, shocked at the amount of anger in his tone.

"Unhand me and get out," I ordered him, calmly staring into his sea blue orbs, but not showing the butler any emotion.

The man left without another word, slamming the door behind him, leaving a single question to linger in the air.

Why?

He was my best friend; the one person that had always encouraged me to do whatever I felt was right- he'd even said to go ahead with Will before dinner last night.

That was when I first noticed he wasn't right; he seemed depressed, though he was trying to hide it.

Yet, he did spare a smile and tell me I looked beautiful.

Oh.

Now I see.

Damn it.

Having been so busy whining to him about Angelina or thinking about Will, I'd let my friend's feelings go unnoticed.

How long had I been hurting him?

How could I have been so stupid?

I'm so sorry, Bard.

Closing my eyes in frustration, I walked, with a little difficulty, over to the wardrobe that had been left open, and found myself a new white shirt, black trousers, red ribbon, red and white ribbon, and the black shoes that Bard hadn't managed to dig up.

It had been over twenty years since last wearing the dingy disguise; the previous time having been during my most recent breakdown when I posed as Jack the Ripper.

Even after these few years, I couldn't say that I regretted what I did to those women- they deserved their fates for throwing away such privileges that I would never have.

I threw my clothes on as though in a trance, paying no attention to how dreadfully dull the clothes were, or that they'd end up covered in blood.

In no time I had only the last few finishing touches to add that would render me completely unrecognisable.

Standing before the mirror, I stared hard at my own eyes through the silver rimmed spectacles, and willed the two tones of my irises to blend together to create a pair of boring, single shade, forest green eyes.

It didn't bother me all that much to change my eyes; they simply marked me as a reaper, but the part that I did hate was having to change my hair from the luscious ruby shade to that of mud.

I'd never been sure how I could change my features to disguise myself if I thought hard enough about it; my mother had told me that it wasn't a reaper talent, and my father had no idea if it was a form if my demonic inheritance as demons' powers manifested in so many different ways.

I ground my razor teeth together as I watched the red melt into brown, wiping away one of my most distinguishing features, without which I just looked too ordinary; like a common human.

With a silent goodbye, the previously spiked teeth evened out so that they were each as flat as any normal person's.

Farewell, radiant, red Grell; hello, pathetic, dull Grell.

I tied my hair back with the red ribbon, leaving just a couple of strands from my fringe to hang over my face, but nowhere near enough to hide behind.

The worst thing about the ensemble was the lack of red; the pair of ribbons being the only shreds of the colour that I needed to have to feel as though I was still myself.

With a quiet sigh, I made sure I could walk without looking crippled, and headed into the lounge, where my betrothed, her nephew, and his fiancé waited for me with Bard.

"Ready?" the witch in red asked sharply, to which I gave a silent nod, "Good, come along."

Without a word, the blonde butler opened the front door for the group, his eyes focussed on our shoes.

"Ciel, who's that man?" the small noblewoman quietly asked her fiancé.

"No one worth acknowledging," he laughed darkly, shaking his head at Elizabeth as though she'd said something idiotic.

The young blonde said nothing in response to the brat's cold words, but spared me a sympathetic look, to which I smiled slightly.

"Grell?" Madam Red called, holding out an arm expectantly.

Perhaps it really was better to just accept my fate.

"Where to, my lady?" I asked casually, making the woman blink in surprise as I took her arm.

I would have to become an even greater lie than I already was.

Even my mask wore a mask.

"We were planning on going for a stroll along the promenade," she smiled, thoroughly pleased with my attitude.

"That sounds good to me," I chimed, the pair of us leading the group outside.

My heart was screaming in protest the whole time I spent with the aristocrats and the butler, discussing futile matters such as the weather and the stock markets.

I longed to be anywhere else and to have my darling Will's arms around me, but my brain said otherwise.

My head told me that to run off with him would be pointless suicide, and so I believed it.

For now.

"I hate to point this out, but has anyone else noticed that there aren't many lifeboats?" Ciel asked after a lap of the deck, "Though, as long as we get on one, in the event that the ship sinks, I couldn't care less."

As long as I'd known the young, blue haired boy, he'd always been such a cold, unfeeling brat with little regard for anyone who wasn't of a Noble family- though he took a special dislike to me, which had become mutual.

He really didn't deserve the blonde beauty at his side; it wasn't right for someone so innocent and kindhearted to be tied to the empty bluenette.

I dreaded to think how much suffering poor little Elizabeth could have to go through because of Ciel, though seeing those two together was alike to myself and Madam Red in ways; we looked so similar on the outside, but were simply an awful match.

Or, at least, that was how I felt.

"Grell, dear, what do you think?" Angelina asked curiously with a mischievous look in her eyes, and suddenly everyone else was looking to me for an answer.

"Oh, my apologies, but I wasn't really listening," I explained honestly, adjusting my hair bow with one hand, "I was just thinking about how Ciel and Lady Elizabeth are, like us, engaged; and are quite a lovely couple."

Madam Red gave me an overjoyed smile as though she were a dog and I'd just thrown her a bone.

"Yes! I completely agree!" she nodded, suddenly becoming very energetic as she turned to the 'lovely couple', "You two are so cute together, you should marry as soon as possible- perhaps we could even have a double wedding! You two are a little young but Sebastian and I are more than able to pull a few strings and bend a few laws to get what we want."

"Auntie Ann! That's a lovely idea!" the blonde gasped, bringing her hands together at her chest, "Everything would be so adorable with little bows and fluffy animals! And plenty of red, of course!"

"Elizabeth! I don't think Aunt Frances or Edward would be happy to hear...!" Ciel quickly argued, but trailed off at the realisation that neither women were listening; too busy discussing the idea of the wedding, "Grell, aren't you at all opposed to this? Surely you don't want a fluffy, frilly, cute wedding!"

The panic on the little Earl's face was a brilliant sight; I'd have to mess with him more often.

"Not at all- I am content with whatever my betrothed wishes," I shrugged with a smile, purposely using a tone of voice similar to my father's, "and so should you be."

At that small action, I made a mental note not to move my shoulders too fast as the movement agitated the holes in my chest and back.

I got nothing more than a small huff from the blue haired boy as he leaned on the rail, staring out to sea through his single eye.

Noticing Ciel stop, the ladies behind followed suit, sitting on a pair of sunbeds as they carried on babbling about the wedding.

"Bard?" I called softly, seeing my moment to atone even slightly for my ignorance.

Entirely ignoring me, the man in white strode past me and struck up a conversation with Ciel, leaving me to stand alone in an awkward, lingering silence.

With a sigh, I retreated a couple of metres from the group and peered over the edge there, resting my head on the gently vibrating metal.

My mind drifted off to sorrowful thoughts of my friend and butler, but the main focus was still on my hatred for the woman in red that would always survive, no matter how far down I buried it.

"Don't attract attention, and stay quiet," Will's voice hissed from right behind me, and then I let him pull me into an empty hall, "are you alright?"

"Will, what are you doing?" I gasped, checking over my shoulder with a grimace, "I can't be here!"

"I just need to talk to you," he said softly, looking into my eyes with his worried ones.

"How did you know it was me?" I quickly asked with an arched eyebrow.

"Your eyes," he stated quietly, staring deep into them, making me sigh.

Had they returned to their usual colours?

Was that all he labelled me by?

"I recognised the sadness in them; the same sadness that's there whenever you're with her, no matter how far down you're trying to hide it," he explained with an empathic smile.

"Oh," I mumbled, more than slightly taken aback at his words, but I most likely wouldn't have much time to speak to him, so didn't dwell on it, "what happened after I blacked out?"

"Well, you fell unconscious in my arms, so your father allowed me to put you in your bed before thoroughly lecturing me on how he would kill me if he ever found us together again, and then forcefully kicked me out of the room. I would have gone back in there to stay with you, despite his words, but I was restrained by a young crewman with some considerable strength, telling me that it was foolishly reckless to end up fighting your father, so I headed back to the other reapers," he told me sadly, "I am truly sorry for not being able to stay there; to protect you from that awful woman."

"It doesn't matter," I stated, feeling the bitter taste as I uttered the words, "I'm engaged to Angelina, and I will marry her- I love her, no matter how much she hurts me. She only hurt me because of my involvement with you anyway. The same goes for my father."

"No, that's not you speaking, Grell, it's them. They're changing you; they're making you bury yourself so far under your layers of lies," he said frantically, "just be careful that you don't lose your real self- the one I fell in love with."

He just...he said he loved me.

Of course, I thought that he did, and felt the same way, but I didn't really expect him to announce it.

I wasn't sure whether I should feel overjoyed or regretful at his admission- either way I couldn't be with him.

Yet, I couldn't be without him.

"I won't," I nodded stiffly, forcing myself not to react to his words, "but you should take heed of my father's words; he's not one to make empty threats."

"I know, but whatever punishment I get for coming to see you is worth it. You are worth it," he shrugged, his voice firm and resolute, "Grell, you are the most amazing, beautiful person I've met in my three centuries, and not just on the outside. I see the real you- the wild person you usually hide from the world; the person you'll never show her because you know that she expects you to be 'proper'. What she is doing is more than cruel- like keeping the most majestic, beautiful tiger in a cage and hiding him from the world. I can't let that happen to you, Grell, you're the only person that has ever meant anything to me in such a way. Please, don't get trapped with her."

I stared wordlessly at the man before me, my eyes filling slightly with tears at his caring and flattering words.

I'm so sorry, Will, I really am.

"I know, I know that this relationship can't be possible, but that doesn't stop me believing that it's worth trying for, whatever the consequences," he said quietly, not meeting my eyes as he very gently rested his head forwards on my shoulder.

The urge to stroke that soft black hair was almost impossible to deny, but I couldn't; I couldn't give the short lived relationship even the slightest hope.

"It's just like Romeo and Juliet, isn't it?" I laughed spitefully at our sick situation, "We come from different backgrounds, I'm doomed to be with another, my father hates you, the reapers frown upon demons. But, unlike them, I won't allow us to die for an impossible love."

I bit into my lip with my blunt teeth, as Will sighed and straightened up with a nod.

"Grell!" a voice growled from behind me, a hand grasping my forearm, making me scream at the sudden pain of the jolt, "What the hell're you doin' in here with 'im?"

I'd barely glanced backwards at the enraged blonde before Will's hand was at his throat.

"Keep your hands off of him!" the reaper snarled at the butler, a pair of furious double-green eyes and a pair of sea blue irises glaring equally as intensely at one another.

"He's more mine than yours, reaper!" Bard spat, swinging the fist that had held me at Will's flawless face, who fluidly ducked and simply tightened his grip on the human's throat, making him gasp for breath, "I won't let you take him away! Ya hear? I've lost people before, but I won't lose him!"

I stepped back from the pair, staring at them in shock- they'd both, usually, been such calm, kind men to me, but when pitted against each other they were everything but friendly.

"Grell belongs to no one but himself," Will stated emptily, his formerly burning glare replaced by an icy one as the other man attempted to slam his foot into his shin.

My lover, and my best friend- to see the pair locked in such an aggressive stance hurt, though my feelings of pain were not for myself.

I tried to imagine the situation from Bard's mind; he was in so much pain due to my thoughtlessness, and then Will had swept into my life and claimed my heart, snatching away any of his chances.

As for Will, he had spent a long time being unable to really feel anything inside, but then we found each other, and we were both saved from the emptiness.

All Will was doing was protecting the person that had set him free in a way, and the person that he so desperately wanted to help escape this mortal coil.

"Both of you, stop!" I ordered them softly, though there was a tremble to my voice, "Please, stand down. There's no point in the pair of you fighting."

"Never," the blonde replied sharply, his glare shifting to me for just a moment before resuming to fume at Will.

The grim reaper looked to me, and then seemed to understand the pain in my eyes as he gave a slight nod.

Realising that the black haired man's focus was on me, Bardroy aimed another punch at his jaw, though the fist never made contact as the man in the suit let go of his throat and took a step backwards with such precise timing, making the butler stumble.

"I need to go; Angelina and the others will have definitely noticed our absence," I sighed to Will with pained eyes, "thank you for everything, Will, but I think this may be goodbye; I'm so sorry."

"Whatever happens, even if it means that you're alone forever, do not end up getting caged; such beauty deserves to be free," he smiled sadly in reply as I shoved the disoriented blonde through the door, "goodbye, Grell."

Will...

"Ah, shit! What the hell, Grell?" Bardroy gasped angrily once he regained his balance on the deck, "What are ya doin'? Let me back in there! Wait 'til I get-"

The butler never got to finish his sentence, as he was slammed against the wall by a particularly irritated demon-reaper.

"Bardroy, I believe I understand why you're acting so brashly, but that doesn't pardon you!" I snapped at the wide eyed man, pressing him to the wood pane with a single arm across his chest, "I truly am sorry; for everything I've done to hurt you, but I won't forgive you for the way you've treated me and Will."

The blonde looked down, refusing to meet my furious gaze as he gave a silent nod with a hurt, ashamed look similar to that of a kicked puppy.

With a frown, I let the man go, and left him to head over to where the rest of the group were, with an additional Alois chatting very enthusiastically to Ciel.

"Grell?" Angelina called from the sunbed, having noticed Bardroy and I return.

"My apologies for disappearing; I could feel my teeth returning to normal, so I headed inside to concentrate on hiding them," I laughed lightly, flashing her a grin as I sat beside her, hiding the wince as my back wound felt like it stretched a little bit.

"Oh, well, good. They look perfect now," she smiled with a nod, and then ran her critical eyes over Bardroy's appearance, "why are your clothes all crinkled? And your neck, why is it so red? Oh, why are you so scruffy? Really, you call yourself a butler?"

The man stood in silence for a moment, half-heartedly gazing between myself and Madam Red, seeming to be trying to decide what to say.

Ah.

The game was over.

His pain having been my fault, he would most likely just turn me in.

It wasn't like I deserved any better from him- if he were to make me fall any further we'd be even, having both ultimately denied each other the person we wanted to be with.

"Forgive me, my lady, I don't usually get into such a state," he admitted, and then sighed, "I went to look for Grell, but tripped over and hit my neck on a pipe."

"I see," the woman said disinterestedly, and carried on talking to Elizabeth about whatever they'd been discussing before we'd turned up.

I gave the butler a nod that betrayed no emotion, and he gave me an equally empty one, before heading over to Ciel and Alois.

I joined Angelina and Elizabeth's conversation about New York's fashions, speaking enthusiastically about my taste in designer shoes; at which both females laughed.

"Grell?" the redhead called softly as I was about to interrogate the Marquess' daughter about her favourite accessories, making me look at her curiously as I was quite certain I'd done nothing wrong, "You look a little paler than usual. How are you feeling?"

The question sounded odd coming from her lips, as did the sincerely worried tone it carried.

Playing my cards carefully, I nodded with a small smile.

"Actually, I am feeling a bit under the weather," I said quietly, subtly tapping my chest in a way that only she would notice, and then slowly shrugged, "but it's nothing I can't handle. So, Lady Elizabeth, what-"

"No," she started firmly, biting her lip in a way that made her look as though she was actually guilty for the torture she'd subjected me to, and then gave a worried smile, "no; you've been feeling ill quite a bit lately- it would be best if you headed back to the room and rested. I don't want you to end up catching a virus."

Really, she was letting me go just like that?

Her act may have been as fake as my own- I couldn't tell, but either way she was letting me head back without her after everything that had happened in the morning.

"Alright, that may be the best option," I nodded in agreement, and slowly rose, "it was nice being out with you two; we should all do this again."

"Yes, we should," Elizabeth agreed cheerfully as Madam Red nodded too, "but come in red next time, Grell."

"I will," I vowed, and then laughed as I strolled away in the direction of our staying rooms.

Letting the thoughts of today's events flood my mind, I rounded corners without paying much attention, just leaving the piloting to my instincts and general sense of direction.

I wasn't sure whether or not I bought the Angelina's caring words, but either way, I still couldn't bring myself to feel anything at all for her; a moment of treating me well based on my own actions could not make up for her cruelty, and nothing ever would.

Realising that there was no one around, I stopped mentally holding back the colours of my eyes, letting them return to normal.

After doing the same with my teeth and hair, I released my crimson locks from the bow, shaking the long tresses free of their restraints; making me feel much more like myself again.

A sigh of relief escaped my lips as I reached the large mahogany door; I'd finally get the chance to just relax on my own.

Upon entering the room, I was greeted by a rather unexpected sight.

I found my father pressed up against the wall by the other demon in black, one of the red eyed man's legs wrapped around the back of the slightly taller man's own, their lips locked in what seemed quite a violent kiss.

So that's why my father hadn't joined us for a walk; he was far too busy whoring himself out to Claude.

I couldn't say that I felt surprised; he'd engaged in countless sexual activities over the years, though he claimed that each person was nothing but a tool to satisfy his lustful urges- he was a demon after all.

He was really no better than the prostitutes I'd gone about killing a few years ago; mindlessly sleeping with others for one pathetic reason or another.

Red eyes widened over the butler's shoulder at the sound of me closing the door behind me.

"Grell!" my father gasped, untangling himself from Claude, who helpfully stepped aside, "We..."

He'd started to explain how I'd come to find him in such a situation, but stopped at my raised hand.

"Carry on, I'm going back to bed," I stated emptily, gesturing between the two, "I need to sleep off certain injuries."

"Oh, right, I see," my father replied quietly with a frown.

"Afternoon, Claude," I nodded to the golden eyed demon.

"Good afternoon, Grell," he responded politely, "get well."

I gave a short laugh and a shake of the head before carrying on to my bedroom, closing the door softly behind me.

I swiftly threw off my black coat to find yet another white shirt soaked red through the bandages.

Those wounds on my chest were not healing; usually it took only a few hours for my body to fix injuries of that size, yet they still bled as much as they had when the butler had made them, though I'd never had to deal with purifying attacks and I had been moving around a lot.

As for the much deeper knife wound, that would still take another few hours to heal, but I wasn't too worried about it.

After all, the physical pain was pleasant compared to the emotional baggage I'd been dragging around.

I closed my eyes in frustration and slid down my door to lean against it in an oddly comfortable crouch.

"I should go," I heard Claude announce on the other side of the wood.

"There's no need to leave on his account," my father protested, though it sounded as if he were torn between agreeing and disagreeing.

I wasn't intentionally eavesdropping on the demons, but I hadn't yet found the motivation to move.

"Sebastian, you need to talk to him," the golden eyed man sighed, "don't give me that look; you know that you need to- who knows, perhaps it'd really help to speak to each other once in a while. A chat with him may help you make your choice."

There was a long pause in the conversation I shouldn't have been listening to, before my father gave in.

"You're right," the crow muttered half-heartedly, "but he just doesn't listen! He can't be reasoned with; the only way to control him is through torture- which I truly hate resorting to."

Oh, I'd always thought that he enjoyed attacking me...

"You're his father, you'll find a way of getting through to him without hurting him any more," the demon butler calmly reassured him.

Despite being a demon, Claude was starting to sound like quite the thoughtful person.

"I appreciate your optimism," my father grumbled, "but I'll do what I can."

I heard no more words exchanged between the demons, only the soft sound of the main door being opened and closed, followed by a drawn out sigh from the red eyed earl.

The pair of us sat in empty silence on different sides of the door, and I didn't notice until I felt something on my cheek that I was doing something I hadn't done in centuries: crying.

In a way, I was used to emotional overload, but it came in the form of periods of insanity- during which I would kill anyone I felt inclined to target; never the tears of sorrow that slid down my cheeks.

Of course, I was furious at the situation I'd been thrown into; what I'd done to both Bardroy and Will; and my inability to break free, but my regrets outweighed the anger.

I was so sorry to the men that cared for me- that I'd pushed away; I was sorry to the father that believed I was impossible to speak to; hell, I was even sorry to the fiancé that I so hated for being immorally false to her.

If only my mother could see me now- would she be sympathetic or disappointed?

I knew the answer to that already: she'd be sad to see that I'd gotten myself into such a mess; she'd curse my father for being so distant and Madam Red for being so torturous, and she'd commend Bardroy for fighting to protect me.

She'd have given Will and I her full support.

If only things were so different.

"I'm sorry, Mum," I mumbled, seeing her gently smiling face behind my closed eyelids.

I heard a slight gasp from behind me, followed by a small shuffle of movement.

"Grell?" my father called softly from right on the other side of the door.

"Yes?" my reply came out a little hoarsely as I opened my blurry eyes.

"We...we need to talk," he stated, speaking slowly as though he were nervous, "could you please come out here whenever you're ready?"

I bit my tongue for just a moment (though not enough to actually hurt) as I thought about it: could I even face him?

There was no denying it; we needed to straighten out our turbulent relationship.

It just had to be done.

"Sure, I'll be right out," I agreed quietly, drawing a soft sigh of relief from the demon, followed by the sound of him heading over to his chair and settling into it.

I carefully got up as not to irritate the gashes any more than I already had, and quickly swapped the glasses I wore for my red ones before dabbing the tears from my cheeks and opening the door; still clad in my blood-soaked shirt.

Ignoring his frown at my rough appearance, I sat in the chair opposite him with my legs crossed, looking at him expectantly.

"You wanted to talk to me, so initiate," I muttered with a glare at his behaviour, flipping a lengthy tress over my shoulder.

The demon hardly reacted; only began nibbling on his lip.

It was so unlike him; one moment he was perfectly capable of lecturing me and even attacking me, but there he sat unable to do anything but glare at me.

Fine- I'd have to be the one making the effort.

"You've been acting strangely lately; what's wrong?" I asked the demon with my own frown, finally giving in and questioning his odd behaviour, succeeding in making him look down into a book, "And don't even consider saying that there's nothing wrong; I know you."

I was always in a state between love and hate with that man- he was my father, and he did bring me up well on his own after the first twelve years of my life, but sometimes, well, he wasn't as friendly.

"I'll be fine," he shrugged, eyes still on his book, refusing to meet my angered yet concerned gaze.

"'You'll be fine'? That is the most pathetic lie I've heard in a long time!" I snapped at him, irritated at his secrecy.

"Then you would do well to recall that that was the same lie you repeated to me countless times, centuries ago," he replied equally as sharply with a malicious glare.

My gaze fell as I thought about that time; he was right, of course.

It was just after I'd watched the other grim reapers kill my mother for loving my father and having a child with him.

Needless to say, it was more than cruel to bring up that time.

"Listen, all I want is for you to trust me enough to talk to me," I sighed, pushing the memories to the back of my mind in attempt to keep the conversation at a relatively calm level as I decided not to mention the fact that I would prefer it if he would also stop attacking me.

"Why should I trust you if the feeling isn't mutual?" he sighed, closing the novel.

What?

What had I ever done to lose his truth?

Whatever it was, it surely wasn't as bad as all he'd done to me over the years.

He was being purely ridiculous.

"It's not exactly like I can trust you; you're the one that threw me into this marriage when you know that I hate that woman!" I screamed at him, my temper breaking through the dam I'd been trying to create, my eyes bleeding to pink, "Not to mention all of the attacks I've had to withstand from you!"

"And you were the one that lost me my wife," he stated calmly, remorseful eyes boring into mine as he played his single most brutal card.

"Shut up!" I growled, summoning my scythe without really noticing, and holding the still blade to his throat as he didn't bother to dodge.

"You can't intimidate me with that little toy," he sighed, pushing my hands away, "but I know that you won't let this go."

I took a step backwards and lowered my weapon with a nod.

"I've found myself with a difficult decision," he announced sadly, brushing a hand through his raven locks, "you know how uncommon demons are, but Claude and his contracted master have invited me to stay with them and, well, Claude is quite the gentleman when he wants to be."

My fuchsia eyes narrowed at his words, and the way he smiled ever so slightly as he mentioned Claude.

So he'd found someone that his black heart could love once again, not just someone to whore himself out to.

Sure, that was lovely for him, but shouldn't I get the chance to be with the man I love too?

Then why the hell was he forcing me together with someone I hate?

Where was the justice there?

"But there's more to it; I've found a human willing to trade his soul for my service, though I expect it would be a long term contract," he added with a furrowed brow at my still disapproving expression, "Ciel has quite a spectacularly mouth-watering soul; so thirsty for the revenge against those that killed his parents and defiled his family name- his soul would satisfy me for a considerable amount of time."

Ah, so he wanted to tie himself to the brat?

Perfect.

"Then what's keeping you here?" I asked coldly as my irises returned to normal as all traces of anger fizzled out into monotone.

"You," the demon stated, studying me with worried eyes, and then leaned forwards in his chair, "I don't want to leave you."

I stared blankly at the man, and then sighed with a shake of the head.

"No, you're just feeding me the words that I want to hear," I huffed, looking away from him in irritation.

"I know that my mood changes so much and I take it all out on you, but I do care about you, Grell," he said quietly, and I could feel his sad eyes concentrating on the side of my face,

"I worry about you a lot; especially lately, when your demonic blood has seemed unsettled."

I didn't want to believe it, but his words sounded so sincere, completely unguarded and spoken without really needing to be thought about.

Spoken in a way that demons rarely did.

I dissolved my weapon at his honest show of compassion.

"You should go with Claude and Alois, and take Ciel with you; take a chance to be happy with them," I sighed with a shrug of the shoulders, "but let me be with Will."

"Out of the question," he stated with a frown, "but I am strongly considering going with Claude."

"Then why won't you let me take the path I desire?" I huffed, feeling the anger building again, "Why do you deny me the right to make my own decisions?"

"You! You have no rights!" he snarled, shooting up from the chair like an arrow from a bow, his hand making contact with my cheek in an instant, luminous pink irises being replicated by my own eyes as we glared at one another, "A mutated creature that is neither demon nor reaper has no rights to even be, let alone make choices!"

I stepped backwards, not reacting in the slightest as I walked away from the rather bipolar demon.

"No, wait, I didn't mean that!" he gasped, holding a hand out towards me, "I just..."

"I know. I know how it feels," I replied quietly with small nod, and noticed in the reflection of his red eyes that the pink of my own was dispersing to return to two-tone green.

I knew that it was only his uncontrollable demonic temper that made him act so harshly.

I'd felt that same lack of control enough myself.

I couldn't blame him for it, not really.

"It hurts me how, when faced with the option of being with me or with William that you can instantly choose him over me," he sighed, tucking the edge of my fringe over the frame of my glasses, "yet it's such a difficult choice for me."

"I...," I tried to console the misunderstood demon, but found no words.

"If...if you can prove that Mr Spears is a better suitor for you than Angelina, then I'll consider it," he said quietly, but very deliberately, making my eyes widen in surprise, and than soften in my thanks.

I couldn't imagine how hard it must have been for him to say that.

"Then I'll be sure to convince you," I smiled, delighted with the result of the rocky conversation, "thank you. And I think that you should most definitely go with Claude."

"Right," he chuckled with a nod, letting out a long, content sigh that blew away all of the tension, "though I suggest that you bathe before going to find him."

"Of course," I laughed lightly, inwardly groaning at the repulsive thought of how much blood I'd have to scrape off of myself.

With a satisfied nod exchanged between myself and my father, I headed into the bathroom to quickly rid myself of the fluid encrusted into the skin on my chest and back in a paradise of steam and bath salts.

Given the chance to properly look at the wounds on my front, I noticed that they weren't too extensive, but still nowhere near healed.

Upon getting out of the bath, I realised that I'd neglected to prepare a change of clothes, so I left the bathroom in nothing more than a towel, not particularly caring that I was dripping water on the floor; I was on a ship- there was enough water around to bother fussing over a few more drops.

As I wandered to my room, I noticed that my father was no longer in the lounge and had most likely left to speak to Claude or Ciel.

Combing my fingers through my damp fringe, I strolled into my bedroom to find my father laying out parts of an outfit for me.

Leaning against the doorframe, I watched the man with a smile.

"Practising butler duties," he chuckled lightly at my curious smile, setting a pure black shirt on top of my favourite coat, "if I go with Ciel, I'll be serving him as a butler as well as a demon; and I just thought that I'd help you since you're barely clothed."

"Oh, I see," I grinned, sitting on the bed next to the clothing.

In some ways, it was difficult to imagine the powerful demon, Earl Sebastian Michaelis, the man that had traded my freedom for an increase of aristocratic reputation, reduced to the servant of a standoffish child.

Yet, somehow, it did seem right that such a wild creature could be allowed to be with Claude for such a cost- and he'd make a meal out of the one eyed Earl in the end.

Either way, the outcome kept us both happy.

Given that he does accept Will as the best person for me before we reach New York.

Of course he would; Will and I actually had affectionate feelings for one another and cared for each other's fates- unlike Angelina.

But what if he didn't want me anymore?

What if my earlier actions had made him believe that he'd misjudged me?

No!

No, that wasn't likely; Will was an understanding person that thought things over, and he already knew how trapped I am.

"You look worried," the red eyed man stated as lay a pair of red trousers on the bed too, and then slid his eyes over my almost naked body, "I'll bandage your chest again, if you wish."

"Thanks," I nodded, eyes following him as he swiftly grabbed a long strip of the cloth and some ointment from the medical box in one of the draws in the dresser.

I dropped the towel down to my waist to give him full access to my torso as he climbed onto the bed behind me.

It seemed unlikely that he'd intentionally hurt me at that point, but I was still subtly on guard.

"This will hurt, but not too much," he warned me softly, and then I felt a wet finger rub the stab wound on my back, though the touch was as gentle as he could manage.

That particular medicine always had an odd effect; burning the edges of the cut at first before completely numbing the pain, though I knew the effects wouldn't last very long.

"I'm sorry for all I've done to you," he sighed as I winced at the strange yet familiar sensation of the solution.

"I know," I smiled sadly over my shoulder at the tone of sincere sympathy and perhaps even regret.

We remained silent until he finished wrapping my injuries, yet it wasn't the usual awkward silence filled with thoughts of unspoken words, but a calm moment when nothing needed to be said.

"Thanks," I murmured once he'd pinned down the end of the bandage and carefully prodded a couple if places to check it was staying together properly.

"My pleasure," he replied cheerfully with a slight smile, and then quickly dried off the slight moisture in my hair with another towel he'd retrieved from a shelf.

He didn't speak again for a considerable amount of time, not even when he insisted on dressing me lest I'd mess up the bandage; he seemed to be deliberating something, and it made me uneasy.

Very uneasy.

"Actually, I've changed my mind," he announced as he buttoned up my shirt, breaking the suspenseful silence.

"About what?" I asked, narrowing my eyes at him suspiciously.

"Well, I can't say that I particularly like William; last time we met, he seemed quite the troublesome disrespectful-" he started with a huff, rolling his eyes as he reached the final button.

"He's only like that when he's riled up- just like anybody else," I interrupted sharply with pursed lips.

"But, I suppose that he is much like you in that area," he chuckled, shaking his head at my defensive outburst, then gently rested a hand on my shoulder, "you needn't try to prove his worthiness to me; just succeed in the test I set you, whatever it may be."

"I'll do anything," I vowed, placing my hand on his opposite shoulder, "if I complete the task, no matter the costs, then you will let me be with Will, and I will never have to see Angelina again. Do you agree to these terms?"

"Yes, Grell; we have a deal," the demon nodded with a smile that was somehow both happy and worried, "but just remember that freedom always comes at a cost. Be sure not to leave anything overlooked."

"Thank you," I nodded, to both the agreement and the advice, though his words left me a little confused.

Was he referring to the test he would set me, Angelina, or life in general?

Regardless of what particular consequences he spoke of, I would bear his words in mind.

With one last nod and a calm smile, I headed out of our quarters and set to work trying to track down the black man; my black haired man.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N Wow, I apologise for just how overdue this chapter is! I've been a bit of a ghost on the Internet for the past couple of months due to general life problems, but I'm happy to say that I'm back if any of you were missing me XD**

**Thank you for the review, guest reviewer, it always makes me happy to hear that people enjoy this story and I'll definitely be continuing :) and thanks to those who have favourited/followed this story :D**

**So, today is the fifteenth of April, meaning that I simply had to get a chapter out to you guys today, even if it is a little raw and short, so I hope that you enjoy it!**

Chapter 7

Hope; it was a strange thing, especially when offered by a demon, but it meant that all was not lost- there was still a chance that Will and I could be together and I not get dragged away to be married to the real devil.

Anything could happen: I could get caught by the angel or Madam Red, or Will may have realised that I'm not worth the trouble or the risks, or everything could be fine.

There was only one way to find out.

I swept through the lower corridors in search of my man, passing a few familiar faces, including the twins with the marmalade hair from the band, as I zigzagged around the deck, but had no luck.

I slowed down to an amble with a sigh after rounding yet another corner to a vacant passageway.

Why did the ship have to have so many damn hallways?

It was almost like the maze was designed to render Will impossible to find.

I tensed in surprise as a gasp echoed from the end of the corridor up ahead; expecting an attack of some kind, but no angel, nor any other hostile appeared.

My eyes fell upon a familiar chestnut haired man in a black suit stumbling against the wall at the end of the hallway with a groan.

Alan?

His face was contorted in agony in such a way that his glasses were awkwardly skewed as he gripped his chest with the hand he wasn't using to support himself.

"Alan!" I shouted, sprinting to his side, "Are you alright? Is there anything I can do to help?"

Obviously, I could see that he was by no means 'alright', and was suffering the effects of his illness, but I hadn't the slightest idea what to do.

"I'm fine," he stated flatly through his teeth, straightening up to give me a paralysingly cold glare, only to double over again with a raspy breath, "I don't need your help. What do you want?"

I sighed at the hostility in his tone, recognising that Will had obviously told him what had transpired between us earlier.

"Alan, I'm looking for Will, have you seen him?" I replied calmly, not letting the icy gaze affect me as I stared back worriedly at the man.

"Why? So that you can break my brother's heart again?" the reaper growled, straightening his glasses as he tried to fight off the trembles and convulsions, "William has always been recluse; even towards me and what little family we had, but the moment he finally opened himself up to someone after so many years, you put him through hell!"

How ironic his words were.

"Please, listen for just a moment; I never wanted him to end up hurt, but if he'd stayed near me when my father and the angel were both working in my fiancé's favour, he would have wound up dead," I explained quickly, accepting the anger that I fully deserved, "I need to find him to tell him that my father isn't against us anymore- meaning that we can be together if he still wants me. Please, Alan, I need to make things right between us."

The man pursed his lips in frustration as he mulled my words over in his head, threading his hair through his fingers.

"He's on the promenade, probably at the bow," he sighed, shaking his head at me, "go to him; as furious as I am at you, I've only ever seen him truly happy and relaxed when you're around."

"Thank you!" I smiled, letting out a long breath of relief, and then found myself supporting the smaller man as his body lurched forwards against me, his entire frame going completely rigid, as I held him up, feeling the light strain on my injuries "Alan?"

There was no verbal reply for a moment, just a squeak that he pointlessly tried to hide with a more manly groan as he buried his face in my shoulder.

I stood frozen in shock, unsure as to whether I should try to comfort him or just leave him to it until he recovered on his own.

Going with my instincts, I rested a hand on his back in attempt to calm him; and for just a minute it seemed to work.

Soon the shaking became less violent and he was able to look up at my worried expression.

"Sorry," he mumbled, clearing his throat as he pulled away to lean on the wall instead, eyes not meeting mine as he coughed awkwardly into his hand.

"It's no problem," I shrugged nonchalantly with a gentle smile, "will you be alright?"

He paused for a couple of seconds, before letting out a slight chuckle.

"Actually, I think you helped," he nodded with a grateful smile, "thank you- usually I need to sleep off the pain or be knocked out."

I laughed lightly, glad to hear that he felt better, and then accidentally let out a gasp of utter amazement as he rolled up a sleeve of his jacket and shirt.

On the underside of his arm, from his wrist up to where the fabric hid his skin, was a thick, black, vine-like marking with thinner tendrils extending a little way in every direction, and deep crimson thorns, from which he bled, jutting out at regular intervals.

In a strange way, it was amazing, but why did it have to cause so much pain?

"How can something so beautiful be so deadly?" I muttered, though it was intended to just be a thought, "I didn't think that they were visible; they weren't on any of Will's drawings of you."

"You saw those?" he gasped, eyes wide with embarrassment, and then shrugged, "Yes, I did have them when he was using me as a subject, but he refuses to draw them- he sees them as nothing other than a hideous reminder of something he can never take back."

"'Something he can never take back'?" I repeated in confusion at his words, "Was this his fault?"

"In a way, but that doesn't matter to me anymore," he smiled sadly.

"How does it feel?" I asked without thinking, nor knowing exactly what I meant.

"It's a near unbearable pain, but it won't be for much longer," he admitted with a sad laugh, "and actually I'm fine with that."

My eyes widened as I instantly caught on to what he was saying: he was half immortal, yet quickly dying- how could he just accept it?

How could anyone live with that?

"What do you mean? How long ago did it happen?" I asked quickly with a frown.

From the little that I knew of his illness, I was quite sure that reapers that had contracted the Thorns only lasted approximately a hundred more years.

How long did he have left?

"I was attacked by a vengeful soul two hundred and ninety three years ago," he shrugged with a sigh, "it happened when I was just twelve and William was seventeen. Our father sent us out reaping as a sort of training; we always have to work together because I can't see the records and he can't summon a scythe. However, for reasons I'd prefer not to mention, he wasn't there to help me one day, and I was poisoned by the Thorns."

"Near three hundred years ago?" I exclaimed, a hand covering my agape mouth, though felt that I shouldn't delve any deeper into the brothers' story.

"It moves at different speeds and attacks with varied power," he muttered, stroking a forefinger along a thin stem, dragging drops of ruby liquid along with the digit, "to be honest, I've held on this long for my brother."

"But, now you've got both him and Eric to live for, right?" I asked timidly, "So, you'll be fine?"

"Perhaps," he chuckled, staring fondly at the ceiling as he covered his arm with his sleeve once again, "I've always had the feeling that William would lose himself if I were to die; and he'd never forgive me for it. Yet, despite how strong Eric's feelings for me are, I know he'll understand when the Thorns do take my heart. William...he needs someone to look after him."

It felt odd to see the young man so at ease with his cruel fate, but I suppose that it was better to live calmly as he did than panic about the inevitable.

I nodded with an empathic smile, as I thought about how unjustly lucky I was compared to him in some ways.

"He needs you- nobody else would ever do," he laughed, shaking his head as he glanced back up at me, and then paused to ponder something, "by the way, why was your father such a threat to you and William? He's just a reaper like the rest of us, so I'd have thought that you'd be more worried about the angel for its unpredictability. Anyway, you two have enough reapers on your side to overpower an angel and a single reaper- not that I'm looking for a fight; it just strikes me as odd."

I studied the chestnut haired man, trying to decide whether or not to tell him, and swiftly came to the conclusion that I should- after all, he'd explained his curse, it was only fair that I explain mine.

"Ah, I haven't been entirely truthful with you, Alan," I sighed with a guilty look, "I'm sorry, but it just seemed like something I shouldn't mention to a group of reapers; Will knows, but only him."

"I see, you don't have to tell me, but I won't utter a word to anyone else if you do," he stated softly; comfortingly.

"Thank you," I laughed quietly with an honest smile, before sharing the secret that could destroy the calmness that had fallen between us, "I'm not half human like you and Will; I'm half demon and half grim reaper."

The young reaper stared blankly at me for a moment, before clearing his throat.

"Now it makes sense," he nodded seriously, and then shrugged with a smile, "you really are something."

I laughed quietly as I played with a strand of hair that had curled around the arm of my glasses.

"Would you like me to accompany you to wherever you were heading?" I smiled, gesturing onwards, focussing on the fact that he should have someone with him if he had another attack rather than the thought that Will was waiting for me.

"Alaaaaan?" a voice called from around the corner, followed by a series of random giggles, "Ah, found you!"

The brown haired reaper and I stared at the rather disturbing robed man with amused expressions.

"Hello there, Undertaker," I chuckled as the scarred old man reached us.

"Not causing more trouble are you?" he grinned at me, holding up a dog biscuit, "Cookie?"

"Of course not," I smiled with a shake of the head, and then politely declined his offer.

"Grell, go and find William; he needs your company," Alan ordered me with a smile as the older reaper started playing with my hair.

"Are you sure you'll be alright?" I checked uncertainly as he rubbed slightly at the deadly pattern on his arm through his jacket.

"I'll be fine- I've got the Undertaker," he chuckled as the loony god of death changed targets and placed the aged top hat on Alan's head, "go and sort things out with William."

"Ooh, are you two back together?" the Undertaker grinned with a customary giggle.

Leaving him nothing but an amused smile, I resumed my search for Will, heading for the front of the ship.

"What? I need to keep up with everyone's relationships since nobody tells any good jokes around here!" I heard the mortician complain to the other man, "So...how about you and Eric, hm?"

I let out a quiet chuckle at Alan's refusal to speak of such things as I rounded the corner and returned my thoughts to Will.

Now that I knew exactly where I was heading, I made it to the promenade deck in no time at all.

And there he was: gazing out at the stunningly blue ocean at the very tip of the vessel; the perfect man in black, with hair loosely blowing in the gentle breeze, the vibrant sunset creating the perfect colour contrast.

"Will?" I called softly once I was close enough.

"Hello, Grell," he turned to smile at me, not seeming surprised in the slightest at my return as he offered me a hand, "how are you?"

Well, that I did not expect.

With a smile to match his, I stepped closer to him, taking his hand in mine.

"I'm surviving," I chuckled, taken aback at how friendly he was being- a lesser man would have held a grudge, but not Will, "how about you?"

"Much better now," he replied with nothing but warmth in his tone.

"That's good," I nodded quietly, before suddenly letting it all blurt out, "Will, I'm so sorry about earlier, I just had to...I needed you away from me so that Angelina and my father couldn't punish you for being with me, but I was the one who ended up hurting you and-"

My rambling was cut off by a smooth finger on my lips.

"Thank you for protecting me, but I assure you that whatever consequences I have to face for loving you are worth it," he stated with that soft smile, and then a gentle laugh as I laid a light kiss on the silencing finger, before letting him lead me by the hand to the pointed part of the rail he'd been leaning over.

"Do you trust me?" he whispered in my ear, tucking an escaped strand of vermillion hair behind it.

In other circumstances, such a meaningful question would be pointless between two people that had only known each other for a couple of days; yet, the answer came to me so easily.

"Without a single doubt," I nodded, holding onto that hand tighter with an adoring smile.

"Then close your eyes," he laughed quietly, his warm breath tickling my ear.

With a curious yet entertained smile, I did as he asked, leaving myself completely vulnerable, but that didn't matter; I was with the man I trusted- the only one.

I felt the man wind an arm around my waist, and then lift me up for a second so that I was standing on the bottom bar of the rail.

"Don't worry, you won't fall off this time," he chuckled, climbing up behind me.

"Oh, shush!" I grinned back at him with my eyes still closed, "I'd welcome you falling on me this time anyway."

I got a quiet laugh of agreement in response as he took both my hands in his, holding our arms out to the side.

"Now, cast away everything that's been bothering you, let go of all of those troubles," he instructed me quietly through my hair, leaning his chin on my shoulder, "tell me, what do you feel?"

Doing as he asked, the worries that had earlier preoccupied my mind were gone, if only for a couple of minutes as the soft wind caressed my cheek.

"I feel...lighter somehow, all I can feel to care about is you, Will," I murmured with a smile on my lips, "nothing else matters- not Madam Red, not Ash; nothing."

Not even Bardroy's misunderstood good intentions or my father's well-meaning warnings.

"Open your eyes," came the content whisper from my lover, and so I did.

The sight that greeted my eyes was breathtaking to say the very least: all that was before me was the never-ending stretch of beautiful blue ocean accompanied by that stunningly colourful sunset; yet that wasn't the best of it- the absence of visibility of the ship itself with the feelings of the breeze that sent my hair flowing backwards and Will's hands in mine made my heart race in exhilaration; in that moment, I believed that we were flying into that astonishing sunset.

"You're free," the man behind me informed me softly as I twined my arms around his neck, our hands separating so that he could stroke along my jaw.

There were no more words that needed to be said in that instance; our actions and our expressions of pure elation were more than enough.

Our lips met softly yet confidently in the sweetest of kisses that began so softly, and then swiftly increased in strength as we got bolder, his mouth thoroughly taking control of mine.

Our glasses clinked against each other as I buried my fingers in his short but impossibly soft black locks, my jagged teeth scuffing gently against his lip, adding only to the intensity of the kiss.

Surprising as it was, in all my centuries, that had been my first kiss; despite the fact that I was half demon, I'd always hated the idea of carelessly giving myself to people as my father and those worthless prostitutes did, and I'd simply never felt love before- I'd even convinced Angelina that I was sworn to chastity to get her to keep her hands and lips to herself.

We, rather reluctantly, parted when Will needed to breathe, the hot, passionate look in his eyes making me giggle and a familiar warmth rush to my cheeks.

With a playful smile, that unbelievable man laid a few kisses along my jawline, to my ear.

"I love you, Grell," he purred in my ear, sending a shiver of delight down my spine, "I'll follow you wherever you go."

With the slightest of tears in my eyes, I threw my arms around him once again, making us both step back down onto the deck.

Tears of joy...they were a new experience for me after shedding the occasional ones of pain or anger; something that I welcomed with open arms.

"Will, is this a dream?" I laughed quietly, part of me finding it difficult to believe that such a perfect moment could exist in the cruel world I lived in.

"I hope not," he chuckled back once I let him go, "but on the chance it is, it's the best dream I could ever have wished for."

"Eh, don't worry- it's not a dream," came a sigh from a few metres along the rail, making us glance over at the blonde and black haired man with a camera in his hands, "if it was, there'd be more single guys or girls heading my way."

Shrugging off our chorus of laughter and my comment about a certain lonely silver haired reaper, he headed over to us.

"Mind if I take a picture of you guys?" he asked half-heartedly with a shrug, "There's not much else to do; everyone else is busy. I thought I'd start a photo album, you know, for memory's sake."

Giving him a couple of nods of agreement, we let him take a photograph of us, hoping that I would cheer the deflated man up a little.

"So, where is everyone else?" Will asked once we were permitted to move again.

"Lemme see," the lone twin started, putting a finger to his chin, "Alan went back to your room to rest...my brother was with him there, but I don't know now- they might be back at the bar since it's about the time for a drink. As for the old man, I have no idea- as long as he's not after me, I'm fine. Anyway, I'm heading to the bar, you coming?"

Finding the young man's rambling quite amusing, I turned to Will with a shrug, leaving the decision up to him.

"We'll head over a little later," the rectangular spectacled man smiled, "try not to drink all of the good stuff before we get there."

"Right, well, whatever you're planning on doing, do it before 11:40," Ronald nodded, running a hand through his dual coloured hair as his eyes flicked towards his watch, "just to be safe."

"Sure, but why then exactly?" I laughed, though was slightly unnerved by the man's sudden show of agitation.

"Never mind," he shook his head quickly, striding off up the promenade, "just be careful."

We watched in baffled silence as the man rushed off, and then shrugged to each other.

"Odd, but good natured- I think," Will laughed, unperturbed by Ronald's strangeness, "anyhow, since we have time and nobody appears to be doing anything interesting, until twenty-to-twelve, I was wondering if I could draw you."

Draw me? Oh yes, of course, we'd spoken about that only yesterday, but it felt so long ago somehow.

To be truthful, it felt something of an honour to be added to his collection of drawings...masterpieces that mostly consisted of naked men- so, did he mean to draw me with clothes on or off?

Of course, he'd said that he meant for me to have my clothes on last time, but a lot had changed in us both.

However, it was best to find out the answer through the experience rather than asking about it.

Until then, I'd try to keep my mind out of the gutter.

"Sounds good to me," I smiled, keeping those thoughts solely to myself, as I looped my arm through his and headed towards the room he shared with his brother.

I was fairly certain that I was supposed to remember to tell Will something, but whatever it was, was slipping away as I listened to him talk about a certain journey he and Alan had been on to Germany.

Alan!

Once we'd finished discussing his tale, I quickly told him about his sibling's attack, making him frown more the closer we got to their room, though he softly shrugged me off when I asked what was wrong, stating that he'd rather not talk about it at the moment, so I knew better than to ask again.

Much to Will's visible relief, his room was empty, and he was able to collect his sketchbook and other equipment quickly.

"I suppose that the best place to do this would be back up on the main deck," he announced after locking the door, "though I would prefer to be indoors so that your hair stays still, but-"

"How about my room?" I asked quickly, and then realised how much I'd foolishly forgotten to tell him and proceeded to explain my agreement with my father as we walked to the suite.

"Are you sure there's nobody waiting to ambush us?" he laughed as we got to the large mahogany door, though he was only half joking.

"Everyone will be at dinner by now," I shrugged, counting on my father to have had Bardroy go with him since I hadn't shown up, "we have the place to ourselves."

Sure enough, I unlocked the door to the empty establishment with a triumphant grin, skipping into the main room, dragging him along behind me.

"You know that you're going to have to stay still for a while, right?" he laughed, watching me as I locked the door behind us.

"Of course, I'm sure that I can contain myself for a while," I grinned, and then took a slight breath before asking the question that had earlier bothered me, "and I was wondering, would you mind drawing me with my clothes off?"

Needless to say; that was not how I'd meant to say it- I'd just made myself sound desperate to be naked around him, which wasn't exactly the impression I was trying to give him by any means.

However, the gentleman simply smiled warmly and nodded.

"It would be my pleasure; it seemed a shame to be drawing you with clothes on- while they say a lot about a person, they also hide far too much," he nodded, his voice sincere as he could tell that I'd not meant to come across as I had.

With a quick peck on his cheek, I bounced into the bathroom to undress, leaving him to chuckle to himself as he started to select done of his tools.

I gasped as I recalled an issue that I'd not thought of, carefully removing the bandage the was bound around my torso, and found that, much to my relief, the holes in my front had reduced to small, pale scars; almost as unnoticeable as the cut along my neck, and the wound on my back had greatly reduced too.

Either the ointment that my father had put on my injuries had started to work better, or my recovery depended quite a bit on my emotions.

It was odd to admit to myself, but I didn't feel nervous in the slightest in the knowledge that I was about to walk out wearing nothing but my glasses in front of that brilliant man, but completely calm, despite the fact that I'd never been entirely comfortable with my body.

"Where do you want me?" I asked as he glanced around the ornate interior, having not exactly had time to do so last time he'd been here.

"The bed," he murmured distractedly as his eyes met my naked form, and then gasped, waving his arms about, "the settee- I meant the settee!"

Grinning at him in a playful yet not mocking way, I sat on the sofa as requested.

"Did you have any particular pose in mind, Mr Artist?" I asked, a blush colouring my cheeks as he was rather obviously trying to focus on my face.

"All I need is a pose that matches your personality," he whispered in my ear as he leaned over me to prop up a cushion, "but not the trapped, timid you that everyone else has seen- the real you; that wild, free, goddess, the hidden beauty that your life has rarely let you expose."

He really did have a way with words and seemed to always know exactly what to say to render me unable to avoid blushing.

With a giggle, I lay across the settee on my side, leaning against the cushion he'd been fussing with and draping my left arm across my hip, my legs slightly apart so that it would be comfortable to hold the position.

"That's good," the artist nodded in satisfaction, and then took the arm I'd been leaning on so that I was more on my back, "but lean head on your hand and thread your hand through your hair at the top; it makes you look dangerous."

Grinning, I followed his instructions, and then allowed him to nudge me slightly into the perfect angle, fanning my hair out around me.

Realising that it may have seemed like I was laughing at him, I stopped grinning as he sat down on the chair opposite me, propping up a clean page of paper in his book of art.

"Go back to that grin," he chuckled, seeing my seriousness, "really, when you smile with your teeth you look wild and flirty- it's a perfect expression."

Grinning at both his observations and to do as he said, I held that smile and pose as he began his work upon the blank sheet.

The minutes that ticked by while his hand glided over that hidden tapestry felt so long as I watched the man, ignoring the numbness of my right leg, trying to keep myself calm by paying close attention to every tiny detail of him; his face; his perfectly straight teeth; his posture; how deeply he took in each breath and how many fractions of a second he held it before releasing it.

Despite how calm I was keeping myself, lying naked on that sofa while being carefully observed by my skilful man was the most erotic moment of my life- so far.

"And, I'm finished," he notified me with a relaxed smile, letting the pencil touch the paper one last time as he signed and dated the page, before sitting on the edge of the settee and finally showing me his masterpiece.

"I...it's like looking in a mirror," I gasped, finding it a shade shy of impossible to believe that such outstanding detail could be anything but a reflection, yet I'd never been able to see myself in the way that he'd drawn me; flawless- beautiful even.

True to his words, his art did bring out the true beauty he saw within people, and I felt far more than flattered to know that this was how he saw me.

"That is spectacular, Will," I murmured in fascination with the picture, only breaking eye contact with the draw version of me when the black haired man began packing up his tools of the trade.

"Would you like some help up?" he laughed at my statuesque position as I smirked up playfully at him from the sofa, watching him intently.

How could I let this moment go- a single opportunity to spend some passionate time alone together.

After all, one of us was already naked.

"I'm afraid that my leg's gone completely numb," I grinned back at him, beckoning him towards me, so that I could press my lips to his ear, "but I'm sure that you'd be able to get some feeling back into it."

He sucked in a shallow breath and turned his head so that we were nose to nose.

"Are you sure?" he asked with raised eyebrows, more likely checking that we were definitely on the same page rather than if I wanted to.

"I've never been more sure," I nodded with a soft smile, stoking a hand along the smooth skin of his warm neck, and pressed my lips to his.

Soon enough, he was wearing as much as I was, and far more than kissing occurred from that point on to say the least.

**A/N I just wanted to say that this chapter was so tough to write as I needed to get that last part perfect! I've literally spent days thinking about how to end this, but hopefully this has worked out alright. I would have put a warning at the start for sexual referencing, but that'd ruin the surprise, wouldn't it? XD**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N Hello again everyone! I'm so glad that people seemed to enjoy my last chapter XD**

**My thanks to my guest reviewer for your kind words and support- it's great to be back! ****And, of course, thank you Bea for sharing the love :D**

**I can't help but notice that my Grell and Will have been becoming more and more like Rose and Jack, which I was actually trying to avoid, so hopefully they'll start to sound more like themselves, but who knows XD**

**So here it is, enjoy~**

Chapter 8

I awoke to find myself alone on the sofa, snuggled up in a soft, warm blanket.

Spending only a moment confused as to why I'd woken up on the settee not my bed, a grin spread across my face.

Feeling the slightest of aches in my back, I sat up slowly and reached for where I'd left my glasses on the table, sliding them back into their rightful position on my face.

"Will?" I called quietly, noticing that his sketchbook was still here and the door to the private promenade was open, so he hadn't disappeared to put his art away, and wouldn't be far away.

"Here," replied the man I'd momentarily misplaced, appearing at the doorway, "I'd have woken you myself earlier but you looked so peaceful."

With a quiet laugh, I held the blanket loosely around my torso as I bounced over to him and into his welcoming arms, burying my face in the dark fabric of his jacket.

"Are you alright?" he asked with a slight smile in his voice, stroking my hair with a shaky hand, "It's freezing out here."

"I'm better than fine, Will," I giggled lightly, looking up at him with a blush that I had no hopes of diminishing.

"Good," he chuckled, leading me back inside with a hand at my hip, closing the door behind him, "what time do you think the others will be back here?"

"We have plenty of time," I laughed in a carefree manner, glancing to the clock on the mantelpiece, "it's only...quarter past eleven! We've been here far longer than I thought; we need to get out of here! Wait in my room- I'll be there in just a moment."

"Right, of course," he nodded quickly, heading to the room I pointed towards while I briefly visited the bathroom to freshen up.

Hurrying into the bedroom, I found Will sitting in the armchair next to some folded clothes.

That was odd; he had perfect knowledge of what clothing combinations I liked- or maybe he just remembered exactly what I wore the other day.

"Thanks," I nodded to him as I made for the clothes.

"They were already here with this on top," he stated with a quick shake of the head, passing me a sealed envelope with my name written upon it in my father's familiarly elegant lettering.

"I see, thanks," I nodded, ripping apart the envelope to read whatever the demon had left me, and then passed it back to Will instead, "read it out while I get dressed, if you don't mind."

With an inclination for me to go ahead, he began to read the note.

"'Grell, you were both asleep when I retuned, so I've prepared these clothes for you. On future occasions be more careful," he began, as I threw on my appropriately lacy underwear, his voice wavering slightly as his eyes wandered to me, before swiftly looking back to the paper, "and be thankful that it was I who walked in, not your fiancé or anyone else. We should be back at around half past eleven, so be out by then unless you're trying to get caught. You've given up your body to him, but are you willing to give your soul? We'll see in due time, Earl S. Michaelis.'"

I smiled slightly at the absurdity of the letter as I did up my white shirt, though I did take a moment to appreciate that my father had actually set out clothes, having already anticipated this, so I made a mental note to thank him at some point.

"Don't worry about that, my father's just playing mind games," I chuckled in response to the question in Will's eyes, before throwing on the black slacks, red and white bow, my favourite heels and the scarlet coat in a rush, "would you mind doing my hair? It's much faster when somebody else does it."

"Sure, do you want me to just brush it?" he asked with a light chuckle as he took the brush I passed him, "I can't really do anything more elaborate since I'm not usually around people with such brilliantly long hair."

"Just brush it," I smiled softly, pushing him a little further back onto the bed so that I could sit in front of him to give him easy access to my hair, "to be honest with you, I find it difficult to maintain my hair at this length- I should probably get it cut shorter, but I can't bring myself to allow it."

"I can understand that," he laughed, taking the brush to my wavy locks, pressing a soft kiss to my neck as he swept the red strands to the side.

I'd always loved the sensation of people brushing my hair; whoever it was, yet somehow Will made it feel so much hotter- perhaps even strangely sensual.

With a sigh of contentment, I leaned back against his lightly muscled chest once he'd finished, tilting my head up to stare into his green eyes that were slightly darker than my own.

"As much as I wish we could stay here like this," he murmured, lacing his fingers though mine, "we really should be leaving."

"Oh, right, yes," I nodded quickly, trying to knock the amorous sentiment out of my mind for a while as I pulled the man up with me, dragging him through the lounge to the door, collecting his sketchbook on the way through.

As we passed through the room, I gasped upon noticing that it was already just after halfway past the hour, and then my stomach sunk as I stuck my head out of the main door to find my father leading a small group of people down the corridor in my direction.

"We need to go the back way!" I stated in a rush as I closed the door as quickly and quietly as possible, before running to the door that led outside.

Throwing open the mahogany obstacle, we hopped off of the private promenade, dropping straight down onto the main deck below.

Stopping there for just a second as the grins spread across our faces and the adrenaline kicked in.

"Run!" he whispered, holding all the tighter onto my hand as we fled in fits of laughter that surged purely from the excitement of coming so close to getting caught; not stopping until we reached the other side of the ship.

"I think we're far enough," I grinned as we leaned against the rail to calm down and catch our breaths, "well, Will, this has been one of the best nights I can remember- the other one being last night with you and the others in the bar."

"Yes, mine too; the both of them," he agreed with a gentle smile, chuckling to himself as he looked over his shoulder up the edge of the ship, and then frowned, beginning to take his glasses on and off to glare at them, "can you see something on my spectacles?"

"No, they're perfectly clean," I laughed, though the sound died in my throat as I spotted what he'd thought was a spec on his lenses, "it's not on your glasses."

"Hmm?" he raised an eyebrow, slipping his glasses back on to stare at the silhouette once more as the ship's lights showed the dark shape's identity, "Oh that cannot be good."

There was an earth shattering shock that ran through the entirety of the ship, followed by a series of judders and a painfully high pitched scraping sound as we passed by what was easily the largest iceberg I'd ever laid eyes upon.

Will quickly pulled me away from edge to avoid a huge overhang that then shattered onto the deck, hitting a few people that were too busy marvelling at its size and beauty to move.

"We've crashed," a grave voice announced to nobody in particular as I nodded my shaken thanks to my man, bringing our attention to the robed man sitting on the rail a little further up, leaning against a wall with his fringe clipped upwards out of the way of his scarred face.

"So this is what Ronald was trying to warn us about," Will said quietly, sighing as it started to make sense.

"And since he knew about it in advance, it must have been written in the to-die lists," I continued slowly, realising just what that meant.

"Yes; we were never here for a vacation or to visit New York," the Undertaker confirmed as he watched a handful of cheerful, and most likely drunk, Irish men kick a piece of ice around like a football after the initial panic from the few upper class people around that had long since retreated, "this ship will certainly sink and one and a half thousand lives will be lost."

"Does Alan know?" the black haired man asked emptily, all colour draining from his face at the Undertaker's words.

"Eric will have told him," the older man replied distractedly with a sigh that spoke volumes, "it's a shame really; this beautiful ship had such potential, she could well have been unsinkable if not for this. However, I suppose all great beauty will eventually corrupt when in the wrong hands- perhaps the bottom of the ocean will be a better place for her after all."

As the man gazed wistfully down into his wrinkled hands, the old reaper, who didn't seem himself without his smile, looked for once as though he'd seen far too many years of tragedies.

Will and I shared an understandingly sympathetic look, before heading to another section of the deck, leaving the man to his woes.

"Do you want to go back to warn your father?" my black haired man asked after a moment of aimless walking, the pigment returning to his skin.

"I owe him that much, I suppose," I nodded, knowing that the demon himself would be fine, but that I should give him a heads up as assistance to protect Ciel; after all, it'd be shameful for a demon to lose the person he'd made a contract with, or at least planned to, to a sea of hysteria, "it doesn't matter if Angelina is there; this is far more important than her whining."

"I'll do whatever you want and follow you wherever you go, but are you sure it's a good idea to antagonise her?" he asked softly with a worried look, "Perhaps you should try to get him on his own."

"Don't worry, things might get a bit heated in there, but I don't care about that anymore," I smiled, lightly amused by his concern, leaning slightly into his arms, "besides, people should know that I never have had and never will have any real involvement with that woman; they should see that I'm yours."

"Then what are we waiting for?" he smiled, gesturing back in the vague direction of the room, though did still appear concerned.

Standing on my tiptoes, I kissed the end of his nose, succeeding in making his smile widen to a more honest one, before pulling him along past the multitude of people that were more interested in going the other way.

The corridors were filled with confused passengers rushing around without an actual trajectory and laid back nobles that were only lightly fussing as nervous crewmen trying to restore order.

We both took at deep breath in preparation as we stood before the door that suddenly seemed too large.

I finally managed to open the door to find a familiar group of people sitting in the parlour, doing nothing more than conversing in smaller groups.

Of course, there just had to be a large amount of people around, didn't there?

In the room sat my father, Alois, Lau, Ran Mao, Elizabeth, her mother, the blue haired brat, and Angelina with that insufferable butler of hers.

"Everyone?" I called loudly, bringing all attention to myself and the man whose hand was encouragingly wrapped around mine.

"Grell!" Angelina cried out in anger, instantly jumping up from her chair, her angel standing right behind, "What is this? Step away from him at once! I can't believe I'd find you two together after earlier- are you doing this just to irritate me? It is certainly working! This is an outrage, for you to do this to me; your fiancé! I should be honoured by you as a woman of high standing should be, yet-"

"For once in your life, stop whining, Woman!" I screamed at her, my eyes getting hot with the danger of bleeding to fuchsia as I battled the anger.

"Do not speak to my mistress in such a brash way," the butler in white snapped, taking an intimidating step towards me.

"Then mind your tone while speaking to mine," Will growled at the angel, stepping between us to glare at him.

"Anyway, why are you here?" my father sighed with a light frown, most likely wondering why we'd have risked everything and returned together.

"We came back to give you a warning," I stated, speaking directly to the red eyed man without a care for the panic my words would cause, "this ship is going to sink."

There was barely a moment of silence before the confused or hysterical babble fired up between the others in the room, but my father simply frowned harder.

"That can't be right," he muttered with a shake of the head, and then sighed, "are you sure that's true? We were told that the bump we felt was just a propeller blade breaking...but perhaps that was to inhibit the panic."

"We're sure; one of the reapers tried to warn us about it earlier, knowing about it from his to-die list, and another confirmed it just now. We've crashed into a colossal iceberg- this ship will definitely sink, taking over a thousand lives with it," I explained as quickly as I could while still giving him the facts, "of course, this is nothing to a demon, but you may want to focus on keeping Ciel safe- consider this repayment for earlier."

"Well, thank you," he nodded, thankfully believing me and not making me explain everything in precise detail.

"Let's all just calm down- this isn't helping," the marchioness advised in attempt to cool the situation with the rest of the room, but had little success.

"Wait, I don't understand," the young blonde woman cried in the midst of the chaos, "why does everyone keep talking about demons and reapers? And, Ciel, please don't say it's nothing, just tell me the truth."

The blue haired Earl let out a long sigh, and then nodded, the noise reducing as everyone stopped to listen.

"Listen Elizabeth, you don't live in the world you think you do; there are more monsters, real monsters, than you can imagine," Ciel explained sadly, "four of the people in this room aren't even human. I just wanted you to live away from all of that."

I doubted that the boy was actually telling the truth and being noble, but his fiancé bought it with a surprised smile.

As sweet as that would have appeared to an onlooker, it only made me sad how Elizabeth cared so much to have Ciel tell her the truth, but got only shallow lies- he'd even be abandoning her, the only person that could love him, soon enough to run off with the 'monsters' he spoke of.

She didn't deserve that.

"Excuse me! I think that we're avoiding the bigger issue!" Angelina huffed loudly, making me grind my teeth in irritation, "My fiancé has been off gallivanting with someone else!"

"Maybe you had better calm down, Madam," my father sighed yet again, shifting further back into his spacious armchair, earning a stare of blank shock from both her and the angel, "and I suppose that the 'bigger issue' is more likely to be that this ship is heading for the bottom of the ocean."

I showed the demon a quick smile of my thanks as Will gave the hand he held a comforting stroke with his thumb, staying silent but still supportive.

There were a few firm knocks on the door behind me, so I opened it with a shrug to find the brownish orange haired man that had been playing the drums in the band.

"Sorry to disturb you," he apologised, offering me his hand to shake, "Fred Aberline, I'm with Scotland Yard. Is this the residence of Earl Michaelis?"

"Yes," I nodded, gesturing to my father after shaking the hand, "can we help you?"

"Yes; I didn't want to have to cause a panic, but I'm here to report a murder," he explained, looking to each if us, getting a couple of gasps in response.

It seemed that my disposal of those crewmen last night had finally caught up with me.

"I see, well I assure you that it was nothing to do with me," the demon shrugged confidently, "I've been with these people all night."

"I'm not here to accuse you, Sir," the officer replied with a sad shake of the head, before holding a bit of thick paper out to him, "I have a photograph here, would you care to identify the subject?"

Getting up to take the paper, he stopped halfway, not needing to get a closer look.

"Bardroy, my butler," he said slowly, "but I highly doubt that he would do such a thing."

"I am truly sorry," Fred sighed, "your butler, he's been killed."

Those words froze the blood within my body; I couldn't move, I couldn't breathe, I could hardly even think.

Bard...was dead.

It didn't make sense- the cheery butler had always been there; even when he knew he'd lost me to Will, he still tried to fight a dying battle for me and, even after having faced defeat, never turned me in.

And now he was dead.

My oldest friend, to whom my last words had been so cold, was gone.

Somewhere far in the back of my mind I registered the fact that the man at my side held my hand tighter in attempt to comfort me, whispering his condolences, but I couldn't respond.

"Has the person responsible been caught?" my father asked, his voice void of all emotion.

"Not yet, but we've brought the people that discovered the body, along with their alibis," the Yard member announced, pointing back out of the door, "we thought that if you were to speak to each other, we may be able to get some answers."

In response to the red eyed Earl's nod, the man stepped aside to let the people he'd mentioned into the centre of the room; the first being the bartender that worked in the third class bar area, a young crewman with blonde hair clipped back followed, unfortunately, by two far too familiar faces.

Before us stood a grave faced, black suited Eric, holding onto an unnaturally pale Alan; which would have increased my feeling of dread if not for the fact that the situation couldn't get any worse.

Could it?

"Alan?" Will called quietly to his brother with a slight tremble in his voice.

The brunette looked truly awful to be honest; the lack of colour in his face made him appear as though he too was dead, and his eyes seemed strangely dull- the only hint of colour on him was the deep red shirt that he wore under his jacket, though it didn't suit him at all.

Breaking out of my paralysis slightly, I gasped as I realised that his shirt wasn't red by design, but was soaked in his own blood that I could see dripping from his fingertips.

"Well, that certainly isn't suspicious," the Chinese gentleman shrugged, his large sleeves flapping around.

"He has a condition; that's his own blood," Eric stated quietly, "it wasn't him."

"Thorns of Death?" my father asked monotonously, receiving a nod from the cornrowed man, "My sympathies. What did you witness? Give me all of the details, no matter how irrelevant or insignificant they may seem."

It wasn't until that point that I realised that the brothers were doing nothing but stare at each other- no, that was far more than just a stare. Alan glared at his older brother with such an overwhelming anger in his darkened eyes, while Will simply gazed back apologetically.

"We'd been in the bar since 'bout eight, and then left at eleven twenty-five," Eric began, only to stop at a hand signal from the police officer.

"Can you confirm that?" he quickly asked the bartender, who nodded in agreement, before requesting to resume his duties downstairs.

"Right, so we left then 'cause we knew the ship would be crashing momentarily and the first souls that need collecting are scheduled soon. Alan wanted to help rather than be left at the bar, but needed to change his shoes as someone tipped beer all over his foot, so we were heading back to his and William's room," the man continued flatly, "when we opened the door, we found the man lying on the floor with his neck broken and a slash across his throat, along with a knife covered in his blood. There was just a second before it happened...I wasn't fast enough; the butler's cinematic record attacked Alan, but since he already has the Thorns, the soul infected him instantly, worsening his condition."

"So nobody can just watch his record to find out what happened," Ciel muttered with a sigh, reminding me that there were more people around than I'd been acknowledging.

"He was always a fighter," my father laughed emptily, shaking his head, and then looked to the young man in the ship's uniform, "what about you?"

"I was passing by the room to check that there wasn't anything chaotic going on after the crash, and then I heard Alan's shout of pain," he told the black haired man nervously, "that's when I called for Mr Aberline."

"Thank you, you can return to your duties now if nobody has any questions," Fred told the young crewman, and then received no objections, so he did as directed.

"So, let me get this straight, Bard's body was found in Alan and William's room, and Alan is innocent," my father summed up the evidence for those whose brains were running on slow as I let go of Will's hand to flick my fringe away from my face with a trembling sigh, "leaving William as my main suspect."

"N-no, I was with him the whole time!" I gasped, frantically shaking my head as the accusation aimed at my lover brought me back to reality.

"Perhaps he did it while you were putting your clothes back on," the demon huffed, before glaring at Madam Red to silence the outburst that was brimming within her as Will tried to subtly tuck his sketchbook into the back of his belt, "he's half reaper, so he's strong enough to easily snap human bones; Bard was in love with you, so he had a motive- kill off the competition."

"What? No, he was present while I was getting dressed," I protested, but my words came out slowly, uncertainly, as I thought it over, "but, I...I did wake up alone. He was back as soon as I called, stating that he was just outside getting some air."

I looked nervously to the man beside me, who was shaking his head quickly.

I felt so, so lost.

The evidence was right there, but I didn't want to believe it- I'd come to trust Will with anything, but, then again, I didn't even know the man.

But, I loved him.

Love, huh?

Idiot.

"No, Grell, you know I wouldn't do such a thing," he denied, though didn't sound panicked- perhaps that was a sign of innocence, or just good acting, "I know how much he means to you, I would never hurt someone so close to you, yet alone kill them- I'd never kill anyone for that mat-"

"Liar! It's not the first time something like this has happened," Alan interrupted, his voice hollow and his eyes empty as he looked between me, Will and my father, "this is by no means the first time he's killed innocent people to get what he's after."

"No! Those were desperate times- you said you'd never hold that against me!" Will gasped, glancing around the group with a fearful expression, "Please, Alan-"

"He's also the reason I'm like this," the younger sibling continued, ignoring the black haired man, gesturing to his blood sodden torso, "in the long term, he's killed me too. He did it out of anger and jealousy; if he could do that to his own brother, he could do certainly do it to anyone."

As I looked to Will, I knew that he could see it in my eyes: the trust in him disappearing and quickly being replaced by fearful disbelief.

How could he do it?

To Alan?

To me?

"Sorry but I really need to go," Eric muttered urgently to my father, tapping his watch, and then receiving a nod before promptly leaving with Alan following in silence.

"A past case; an attack on his brother; the body in his room; no alibi; a motive- add that to the blood that I can smell on his clothes," my father sighed, walking over to the frozen William and holding open his jacket to show the fairly fresh blood near the shoulder of his un-ripped shirt, "and what more evidence do we need?"

Suddenly my emotions didn't matter anymore; the only part of my brain that was working properly was the logical part, the part that registered only the facts.

It all fit, I didn't want it to, but...it was obvious.

I could feel myself shaking, beginning to lose control.

I was slipping away, further than I ever had before.

"Grell, please listen to me!" the killer urged me, taking both my hands in his, only for me to pull away instantly, taking a few steps away from him, "Please, don't do this; you know it wasn't me! You-"

"No!" I snapped, my voice as void of affection as when I spoke to Angelina, my body trembling violently as my eyes stung with the crimson tears that had begun to drip down my cheeks, "You kill my closest friend and then expect me to listen to anything you have to say? Why would you think that I'd believe you over clear evidence? Because I'm a naïve fool that could fall in love with someone after a couple of days?"

"Grell, I-" he started, his voice far quieter, sounding more worried about me than protecting himself- but that didn't matter anymore.

"I don't want to hear it!" I snarled, my burning eyes glowing pink.

I could feel everyone's stares on me, but my only concern was the man before me with the hopeless expression that had stolen my heart, body and even Bard's life.

All because of my stupidity.

I'm sorry, Bard.

I'm so so sorry.

I was about to turn to my father to demand that William be taken elsewhere, or I'd end up getting rid of him myself, but I found my body in so much pain that I was completely unable to move; everything aching too much to be able to even twitch a muscle.

"Claude!" Alois called edgily to his butler, the volume of his voice making my head pound.

"Highness," the spider demon's voice responded instantly, "well, well, what have I missed here? Will you be requiring handcuffs for one of them, Sebastian?"

The slight tone of confusion in Claude's voice would have made me nervous, had I not already been pushed so far over the edge, frozen in a glare at the murderer who only gazed back empathetically at me, feeling no urge to run.

Did he actually think that, after all that's happened, I wouldn't hurt him?

Or was he welcoming the fate he deserved?

"Thank you," my father sighed deeply to his fellow demon, "put them on William."

I could taste the tears of blood that streamed over my lips as I watched the golden eyed man bind the traitor's hands with handcuffs made of a material darker than any that could be found in the human world.

"Take him to an office on a lower deck; I don't care where, as long as it's somewhere no one is likely to find him," my father ordered the other demon, who nodded in silence, before he glared at William, "I would kill you myself, but then I would be stealing Grell's right to do so- perhaps he'll hunt you down later. Anyway, I believe that drowning would be a far better, slower end for you, Spears."

I felt the resistance in the muscles inside of my mouth lessen as I watched the Trancy butler lead the unresisting man to the door.

"Just don't lose yourself," the human-reaper called sadly to me before he and Claude disappeared through the door and down the hall.

"Ran Mao, if I ever say that this trip hasn't been interesting, correct me, won't you, dear?" Lau whispered to his silent companion as my father's fist went through a solid oak cupboard.

"Just look where betraying me has gotten you," the woman in red huffed, "if you'd stayed loyal to me, this wouldn't have happened, worthless whore."

How dare she!

She knew all too well how I despised prostitutes...to refer to me as one was beyond evil.

Yes, the world had its demon and other such dark creatures, but that woman seemed so much worse.

The immense aggravation I felt at her words caused me to finally snap; all that extra rage breaking me out of the statuesque state I'd been trapped in.

There was a sudden animalistic howl from somewhere nearby as I fell to my knees, grasping my painful skull, eliciting gasps from most of my observers.

Wait, was that sound me?

It didn't really surprise me; the pain had escalated to a level near the agony I'd felt when the angel had attacked me.

"Everyone needs to leave," my father announced, "really, get out."

I let out a sharp breath as my head spun, raising an arm to flick my hair away, but stopped when I noticed the dark green aura rippling around my skin.

No! No, this couldn't be happening!

My body was surrendering to the demon half of me after all this time and suffering.

Though, perhaps that was what I needed.

Maybe letting go of what I'd been holding back would do me some good.

Anything was better than the pointless strain of trying to sustain my reaper appearance and mindset.

There was a rush of motion as most of the occupants vacated the room.

Standing up with a groan, I let out a long sigh, passing my rather shocked father my glasses that I'd refused to let him touch for centuries.

Spending just a moment confused as to why I was giving him one of my most important possessions, he opened his mouth slightly in shock, before nodding.

It was what he wanted: a game; entertainment, but he couldn't seem to believe that I would actually give in.

"Unless you wish to meet a messy end, leave," the demon huffed, looking to the ginger-brown haired man, before glancing to the woman that had stayed behind, "you too, Marchioness; neither of you can so much as touch him, let alone incapacitate him- if that was what you had in mind."

"It's my duty as a member of the Yard to protect the people on board from harm, and I'm sorry, but this is not a person, not anymore," the man said firmly, eyeing the green haze as he drew a gun from inside his coat and turned it on me.

"I'm so sorry, Sebastian, Grell, but I won't let any danger come to my family either," the woman sighed, standing her ground as she unsheathed a sabre from within the folds of her dress, "as the wife of the head of the King's knights, I have to do away with this threat."

"The stubbornness of humans is such a demeaning factor," my father sighed, sinking back down into his chair and making himself comfortable, a smirk growing upon his features, "I won't be held responsible for your fates."

I cared little for their words; I was far more interesting in watching in awe as the pigment of my skin alternated between my usual pale complexion to a dark demonic tone.

My body was flickering between the two states, much like a dying light bulb, as my darker heritage was overpowering the side I'd lived by for so long.

Too long.

My mind focussed only on the anger that had consumed my very being; the grief, the betrayal, the hatred.

But why were these people going to attack me?

Hadn't I suffered enough?

Wasn't it time that somebody else got to feel my agony?

It was as though I stood on the edge of a knife as those idiotic humans did nothing more than fuel my rage, but whatever thread of control I had left kept me from moving.

Surely they deserved nothing more than death for their stupidity.

So why not deliver their ends?

"What are you waiting for, Grell?" my father asked with a dark grin fit only for a demon, "Are you trying to find a reason not to kill them? Search all you like; you won't find one- the demon in you will always win in such matters."

With those words, my mind was made...or perhaps it wasn't my mind at all.

My sinister laughter began as I summoned my weapon, my skin the shade of snow and my eyes still the colour of a demon's.

"What? Sebasti-" the woman with the sword had begun to shout at my father, but her words were cut off by my blade slicing clean through her chest in a burst of the most beautiful of colours.

I frowned for a moment as my beloved scythe dematerialised when my skin darkened, paying the corpse at my feet no attention as I glared at the policeman.

"No!" he gasped, grimacing as he pulled the trigger of his pathetic little pistol.

The bullet had never actually hit its target as I'd caught it easily between two long black nails, and he knew that it was over.

His heart was stopped the moment my blade returned to me.

"Have fun," the crow in the large leather chair laughed, holding up a mirror so that I could see what I'd become, and that is what ultimately broke me.

The pink eyes that glared back at me were far too familiar, as was the twisted smile upon the blood-splattered lips that contrasted so perfectly to my porcelain skin.

However, the figure that appeared in the mirror seconds later, as though someone had flicked a light switch, filled me with a sense of power with that wild, unruly hair as black as death itself and the long needle-like teeth that dripped ruby liquid over shadowy lips.

I knew that my reaper blood still stirred deep within as my demonic side once had, fighting for control, but this was my true self; how I was meant to be.

Demons had always been exquisite creatures- I was indeed beautiful, and so much more powerful than I'd ever been as a reaper.

Yet, despite all of my power, there was a single desire; just one command in my mind: kill.


End file.
